Midnight Music's Mystery
by RainsPhantom
Summary: Modern Day! R&R, please. Epilogue is posted. The story is complete! Please let me know what you all think of the ending! PLEASE!
1. Chapter 1 Erik's Mystery Begins

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hello to all, I know that you all enjoy reading my Phantom series—_Love of the Deepest Kind_-- I have NOT abandoned it, trust me! I have been inspired to write a new POTO story and viola! I came up with this idea after brainstorming for three days! Please review. I hope that you enjoy. It is in third person omniscient, so hopefully, that will be easier to read! Please let me know what you think, how I could make it better, what you would like to see happen. I heart feedback. Now, Chapter one.**

_**Chapter One- Erik's Mystery Begins**_

Erik Desslar, a masked man with a dark past, walked into his job's headquarters. He was a special agent for the police force of the British MI6**. (A/N: MI6 the agency that James Bond works for in movies, but MI6 does exist!) **Erik enjoyed his job as a special agent. It always kept him on his toes and challenged him mentally. That is no small feat; he was a highly intelligent man in all aspects of life except for one- the emotional aspect. His face did not allow him to have any personal relationships, much less any woman to love him willingly. You see, he was born with a facial deformity, a severe one at that.

Doctors tried to salvage it; renowned plastic surgeons came to do their special operations on Erik's face to add greatness to their names and failed. Three years, growing from a baby to toddler, were spent in the hospitals with bandages. Unfortunately, a doctor finally had the nerves to tell his widowed mother that Erik's face was not repairable. In fact, should Erik continue with the face surgeries, he would die from infection caused by exposure. Erik had developed a great tissue deterioration that ultraviolet waves could make worse.

Erik found it ironic, later in his teens that he could die from the sunlight. It gave him a vampire quality. He was given a full-face black mask to cover the whole face, leaving the lips and shin exposed. They were the only things to be saved. His mother absolutely loathed him after his depressing diagnosis.

She sold him to a freak show that had been in town previously. There, Erik's life became a living hell. He still had the scars on his entire body to prove the suffering he experienced not only from the gypsies, but also from the other cruel people, he met. He developed a somewhat pessimistic view on man, and felt he was apart from them.

Everywhere he went, a curious stare or a puzzled gaze followed him. He was despised; people mistook him for a cult member or a serial killer wannabe. All Erik had wanted was acceptance and love. No one in the world gave it to him.

Ten years ago, a 20-year-old man, Nadir Khan, who was a police chief for the Iranian prime minister, happened to visit with Erik while on a negotiation deal with a murder suspect. Nadir found Erik locked in a cage and almost dead from a beating. Young as he was, Nadir was always a great man. He undid the bounds from Erik's wrists, checked for a pulse, had his men bring a stretcher, and took Erik to a local hospital to recover.

Nadir never left Erik's side, and grew accustomed to Erik's vicious temper and abhorrent face. Was it pity? Nadir tended to think otherwise.

He had once told Erik, "If I weren't a little stubborn and prideful myself, I doubt that I could have stayed with you."

Erik and Nadir became friends, an odd pair they were. A British agent and a Muslim police chief are not what you would call 'chummy' nowadays.

Nadir returned to Iran after learning his son had died from a disease believed to be cancer. He had definitely helped Erik get a job with MI6. As five years flew by, Erik grew bored with figuring out secret codes and finding secret terrorist locations. He wanted variety, and he found that as a special agent. He not only worked undercover as a spy, but he also traveled the world, able to make decisions on his own, captured terrorists, solve murders overseas, and live on his own. He continued working as such for the next five years.

Nadir still kept in touch, and Erik needed that. However, Erik would let hell freeze over before he would admit such a thing. Erik finally settled in a small chateau in the hills outside London, isolated from the rest of the world. He had developed a passion for architecture in St. Petersburg, Russia and Venice, Italy; grace from watching ballet at the Bolshoi Theater in Moscow; an undying love for music from the Scandinavian region; a liking for the arts from Paris; and a hunger for information from America.

Name a country. He had been there, and yet, he was oddly empty inside. Erik was a man of talents, but had no one to show the talents. In essence, he was extremely lonely. No woman had ever looked upon him with love, but hey, he had never fallen in love with a woman. He had a good life. MI6 salary kept his life above middle-class into the life of a wealthy man.

Erik had received an interesting next assignment about two months ago, involving the English prime minister's daughter. He always got the top pick of MI6 agendas; he was their best agent in the field.

He mastered the art of disappearing and appearing when necessary. Having been called the term several times, he enjoyed the term 'ghost.' Erik smirked every time his 'pet name' was used to strike fear into the hearts of evil men. He lived for justice; he had nothing else, namely, no one else to live for.

What his superiors didn't know was that they gave a case that would give meaning to Erik's life. They also didn't know that many lives would be hurt, healed, broken, and mended in the process, but that's later.

Luciana Blaine was a beautifully bright 8 year old who enjoyed what all girls love: horses, fairy tales, princesses, and games. Her world was darkened one day, unbeknownst to her, when she witnessed bribery between a judge and a convicted murderer to get his conviction overturned during a music festival in London about two weeks ago.

Erik was hired and sent to be her bodyguard, after threats were sent to Prime Minister Blaine that his daughter would be killed. Until the men were caught, Erik was to be her 'guardian angel.'

Erik may have been cold and indifferent, but this little girl could melt the hardest heart of the meanest man. She had touched his heart, whatever a heart remained.

Once Erik retrieved his assignments, he drove to the prime minister's estate near Brighton, a town outside of Sussex. Upon his arrival, he heard small footsteps approach. Luciana ran into his arms with glee.

"Erik! Erik! I have waited for you to come! Please, play with me. I am tired of the guards. They are so _boring_."

"Luciana, I promise I will play with you, but I must meet with your father. Do you know where he is right now?"

Luciana pouted with disappointment, but responded, "He went to a meeting at Hastings. I'm s'posed to have a class on manners!" She wriggled her nose with disdain.

"I hate that lady!"

Erik smiled and walked with her down the pathway that led to the estate on the sea cliff's edge. Erik breathed the earthy sea scent as Luciana prattled about her adventures until he had come.

While walking along the beaten path, she suddenly fell over on her chest. Erik's heart skipped two beats as he picked her up.

"Luciana! Luciana! Wake-up!"

Her eyes fluttered open and a broad smile widened on her face as she exclaimed, "I'm fine, Erik! I just tripped. That's all!"

Not quite believing that, Erik nodded and they continued on their way. Luciana stopped him at a gazebo on the side of the immense manor.

"Erik, tell me the story about the nightingale and the rose! It's my favorite story!"

Erik had heard many versions of the story, but Oscar Wilde's version was his favorite. He had told Luciana the story the last time he was here. She had been sick with a strange flu.

As he began the memorized short story of Oscar Wilde, he quoted a passage from the work,

"_But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and her little wings  
began to beat, and a film came over her eyes. Fainter and fainter  
grew her song, and she felt something choking her in her throat._

_Then she gave one last burst of music. The white Moon heard it,  
and she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in the sky. The red rose  
heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its  
petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it to her purple cavern  
in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams.  
It floated through the reeds of the river, and they carried its  
message to the sea."_

Luciana would always close her eyes at this part and envision the descriptions. She did not quite understand the love story, but she loved the descriptive setting and the musings from plant-life. Erik, however, understood it much more personally.

He constantly felt his heart was in that thorn, wishing to find love, and each painful throng was a reminder he would never find it.

With a sad recognition, Erik finished the tale with a slight solemn wistfulness.

" '_"What I a silly thing Love is," said the Student as he walked away.  
"It is not half as useful as Logic, for it does not prove anything,  
and it is always telling one of things that are not going to  
happen, and making one believe things that are not true. In fact,  
it is quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be practical is  
everything, I shall go back to Philosophy and study Metaphysics."_

_So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and  
began to read.'"_

Luciana giggled with glee, "I love that story!"

Erik swelled on the inside, delighted to make someone else happy. Luciana rushed over to her small dollhouse to play with the puppets and games that Erik had brought back for her. He had brought it back from Italy where he met with some officials there on business.

When she tired of her childish games, Luciana returned to Erik who sat in a wooden swing, reading paperwork.

"Erik, please sing me a song!"

Erik set his papers aside and pulled Luciana to his lap. With his beautiful entrancing melodic voice, he sang a song from Moby.

"_So we in sleep in beds we never made  
Holding close to love, when love should fade  
Holding on to this is the best thing we'll ever do_

The morning sun is sweet and soft on your eyes  
Oh my love, you always leave me surprised  
I feel my heart start to burst  
With all my love for you

And oh how it rains  
And oh how it pours  
I never could feel this way  
For anyone but you

And oh how it rains  
And oh how it pours  
I never could feel this way  
For anyone but you

So we take some time and slip away  
Holding on to love, when love should stay  
Holding on to you is the best thing I'll ever do

The evening sun is sweet and soft in your face  
Oh I'll never, ever leave this place  
I feel my heart start to burst  
With all my love for you

And oh how it rains  
And oh how it pours  
I never could feel this way  
For anyone but you

And oh how it rains  
And oh how it pours  
I never could feel this way  
For anyone but you"

Luciana now slept in his arms. Erik sighed, knowing he would never share this love song with another. He took Luciana and set her in her bed for a nap.

As he passed the guards on his way out, Erik ordered, "Don't let her out of your sight. I have to meet with the Prime Minister. He expects me in three hours."

They nodded.

Erik rode the Amtrak in silence, pondering his meaningless existence. His past was a much darker one. He did not want to return to being that man; a man afraid to live in the sunlight. He touched his satin mask in contempt. He could have been famous, a singer, architect, writer, composer, and musician, but he must stay in the shadows. No one would understand his face. No one.

Erik finally met up with Prime Minister Blaine at the Hastings conference center at the Embassy building.

As they sat down, Erik tried to ignore the leader's unblinking stare at his face. Erik finally glared viciously at him to make him stop.

"So, Mister Desslar, have you found any evidence to tell us who is sending the threats?"

"Nothing concrete, but MI6 is currently sending out operatives in disguise throughout the Wales and Northern Ireland areas. We hope to gain some insight from the public."

"This means that you have done absolutely nothing…"

"Except keep your daughter ALIVE!" Erik yelled forcefully. He loathed it whenever some ungrateful jerk unjustifiably criticized his job.

Prime Minister Blaine suddenly and wisely shut his mouth as Erik went over all the paperwork accumulated over the past two weeks, including a possible witness/suspect…Joseph Buquet…

"Just do whatever you can to keep my little girl safe."

"What do think I have been doing?" Erik questioned venomously.

He and the leader rode returned to the estate on Sussex in Brighton. However, to their dismay, ambulances and police cars polluted the front yard.

Erik and Luciana's father jumped out of the car and raced over, dreading to hear the inevitable news.

Erik shouted to a police officer, "What happened!"

The police officer, with remorse in his face that only agitated Erik more, answered, "The little girl was found dead in her bed. No marks or gunshots were anywhere. It's as if she died in her sleep."

Erik bolted to the ambulance in time to see Rowland Blaine scream in anguish as the officials closed the body bag to Luciana's pale and eerily peaceful face. Erik felt the world crumble beneath his feet as his heart stopped.

How could this have happened? How could such a lively girl who loved him suddenly die?

Erik then felt his temper flare. He hurried to his car and began to smash it with a crowbar to beat out his anger at the death. The guards and others refused to stop him. They knew better, a good thing to, because Erik would have smashed their heads in if they tried to stop him. Once he calmed down, he collapsed as fresh hot tears claimed his masked face.

Erik hated to show weakness, but at that point, he did not care.

**Author's Note: Yay! Chapter one is finished! Please review and let me know what you think! So now I shall await them at my computer. Christine enters the picture in the next chapter! (I told you it would be original!)**

© Copyright 2005


	2. Chapter 2 Observing Obscure Behavior

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hello to all, here is chapter two as promised. Thank-you all SO MUCH! I loved getting your reviews. It made my day. I pray that you will continue to do so. The mystery has now begun. This chapter is dedicated to ALL my reviewers (you know who you are! I give you all Erik-hugs). I was inspired to start this story because of my good friend, a fellow Phantom phriend, harem98! This story was written for you! (I'm writing this instead of sleeping)**

**_Chapter Two- Opting Change for the Opera_**

Charles Daae was known for his mastered hand at playing the violin. Since he was a young boy, Charles developed a love for music. When he was in his early twenties, he had married Christine's mother, Emma. They had been so in love, and Charles was so ecstatic about being a father.

Unfortunately, Emma died shortly after delivering a small but healthy little girl. The doctors said she hemorrhaged in her brain from an aneurism. Named after Emma's mother, Christine gave Charles a reason to live. Yes, he spoiled her, but that's what a daddy does for his little girl.

He had good intentions. He spoiled her so that she would never go without want. When he reached thirty and she reached age two, she almost died from a car accident. Charles then vowed to do anything he could to protect her.

He remembered Christine's love for stories. She loved hearing stories about angels; her mother was one, after all. Charles told her about the "angel of music" in hopes of sparking a love for music in her. It worked.

She would say, "When will the angel of music visit me, father?"

And he would answer, "Soon, he will, soon, my dove."

Eighteen years later, Charles was nearing fifty, and Christine at twenty had become a beautiful young woman with long locks of golden hair and bright inquisitive blue eyes. Her body was petite—just 5'3" with a small chest and nimble limbs—perfect for a ballet dancer.

She no longer asked about the "angel of music," and Charles knew that she was too old. The two of them had weathered every storm, every dilemma thrown at them. However, Charles had a darker side, one he had kept hidden. He was ashamed of it, but he knew he had to keep it discreet from his beloved daughter.

If Christine found out, it would destroy her life. He wasn't proud of the dark side, either. Yet, Charles felt conflicted.

He remained silent the rest of the plane ride home. He was coming back from a music festival in London, England. He looked forward to coming home in Rennes, France. Rennes was a smaller town toward the center of France. With beautiful architecture and bustling activity, tourists flocked to it. It was a perfect place for raising a family.

Charles Daae, master of the violin, failed to master his own demons. He wrestled with them in silence as the secret that ate at his soul threatened to destroy not only him, but also, his daughter.

"Christine!"

The nineteen-year-old girl turned her head to her best friend outside Starbucks in Rennes, France. Megan Giry, or Meg, ran to Christine's side. Meg was an attractive girl with blonde hair and brown highlights. Her eyes were a piercing green like her mother's ones. She had small but prominent lips that she pursed together when she was angry.

Meg and Christine had grown up together since grade school and were like sisters. Madame Giry, Meg's mother, had been the mother figure that Christine had needed.

"Christine, we better go! You know Mama will be angry if we're late again!"

The pair caught a bus that took them to the Ópera de Rennes, an opera house in town. Built in the early 1800s, Christine adored the breathtaking architecture (a sure bet to attract tourists!).

The interior was even lovelier since it was remodeled in 1997. **(A/N: The Ópera de Rennes was really remodeled in 1997. It still stands today!)**

Christine and Meg quickly scrambled past the gorgeously large lobby, down the majestic marble halls, and on stage.

As Christine and Meg tried to catch their breath, Meg said with glee, "More than five minutes to spare! That's gotta be a record for us…Stay here, Christine! I must go tell Mama about Larissa's sprained ankle."

Christine nodded happily and went to change into her dance outfit. Meg walked to her mother's office down the hallway.

Quietly entering the room, Meg noticed her mother reading a letter at her desk. She didn't spot Meg's presence. Her mother gasped and began to write back furiously in response to the letter.

"I'm so sorry to hear about that. It truly is a tragedy. Let me know if I need to come there. You know you have a place here."

When Madame Giry sealed the latter in an envelope, Meg revealed herself.

"Mama-"

"Megan Giry, you know you are to be with the other girls doing stretched right now. Why are you out scampering around? A ballet dancer must be dedicated, and you are not showing your dedication by skipping practice."

Meg paled at her mother's intense glare. Madame Giry had a stern, but flawless pale face with jet-black hair and green eyes. She always wore a black buttoned-up dress and boots in memory of Meg's father who died five years prior.

"I know, Mama. I'm sorry, but Larissa called and said she sprained her ankle and…"

"Good, thank-you for informing me. Now go back to practice. Do your stretches; I will be there shortly." Madame Giry sternly said.

Meg did not dare to disobey her mother. She made it back to Christine and they started their stretches. Meg was a socialite while Christine was an introvert in her own world. Meg indulged Christine by doing their practice apart from the other girls.

As they began to stretch, Meg asked, "Does your father get back from that music festival thing, today?"

Christine smiled and answered, "Yes, he does sometime tonight. I'm so excited. I haven't seen him in three weeks!"

Meg responded sarcastically, "Is he bringing the "angel of music" with him?"

"Oh, Meg, I stopped believing in that nonsense years ago! Besides, I plan to be a ballet dancer. I am not good enough to be a singer!"

Meg wriggled her nose in disgust as she stated, "I dunno, Chrissy! I mean, if Carlotta can be a singer and still be crappy, surely you'd surpass her!"

The two giggled in delight. While they continued to stretch together, Christine lost herself and began to sing one of her Ben Harper favorite songs.

_Waiting on an angel._

_One to carry me home._

_Hope you come to see me soon, cause I don't want to go_

_alone,_

_I don't want to go alone._

_Now angel won't you come by me._

_Angel hear my plea._

_Take my hand, lift me up so that I can fly with thee,_

_so that I can fly with thee._

Meg squealed as Christine paused, "Oh, Christine that was beautiful! Sing more, please!" Christine blushed and nodded as she started the second stanza.

_And I'm waiting on an angel._

_And I know it won't be long to find myself a resting place in my_

_angel's arms… in my angel's arms._

_So speak kind to a stranger, cause you'll never know, it just_

_might be an angel come, Oh- knockin' at your door, Oh- knockin'_

_at your door._

Sighing happily, Christine ended the song. Her contentment was short-lived as three other nasty gossipy ballet dancers approached.

"So, who's your angel, Christine?" Danita maliciously asked while her two monotonous drones, Stephanie and Lori, nodded. Danita continued her harassment.

"Oh, that's right, you have never had a man! You're still a _virgin_."

They haughtily laughed as Christine blushed in embarrassment, too shy to fight back. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as Meg noticed the situation. She instantly became incensed.

"Well, Danita, at least Christine doesn't have to be anorexic to get other people's attention! By the way, have you told Damien you're pregnant…not with his kid? You better leave Christine alone!"

Danita's face blanched and she quickly ran away, her two goons in tow. Christine meekly thanked her best friend for helping her. Meg cheerfully responded.

"No problem, Christine, you just need to stand up for yourself. Those girls are just jealous of you!"

Madame Giry arrived and the girls went to work. There was no time for play when Madame Giry was in charge. While the rehearsal was in full swing, the old manager was handing the opera house over to two new managers.

"I assure you, Monsieurs, the opera house is worth the million dollars. You will see that money and more on _FAUST_'S opening night!"

"Where's the other manager, Monsieur Debienne?"

**(A/N: Last one I swear. Remember in Leroux's novel, Monsieurs Debienne and Poligny were the previous owners before selling it to Moncharmin and Andre)**

Monsieur Debienne smiled, "Well, Mr. Poligny went to that Music Festival in London. We wish to retire. We have run this theater for ten years, and we feel it's time for a change."

Andre and Firmin nodded and signed the contracts as Debienne looked on with a smile. Debienne took his leave when he officially introduced the new managers to the whole cast.

Andre and Firmin took their seats in the front row to observe the rest of the rehearsal when Carlotta made her debut. Carlotta Garibaldi was a pompous thirty-eight year old woman from Madrid, Spain. She was the type of woman people loved to hate. She made everything about herself, believed the world revolved around her, and thought people should worship her.

With a Spanish accent, she could pass as a Chinese man with all the Botox and plastic surgeries she has had. She believed she was the complete package while others thought her package died a long time ago. Piangi was her foul-smelling fat husband who she led on a short leash.

Even her dog was ugly. It was a mutt she declared a purebred Chinese hairless dog. It was a mutt.

"I am here, so the fiesta can start!" Her annoyingly high-pitched voice chirped. The whole cast visibly winced as she made her rounds. The new managers, ignorant buffoons, fed her ego with praises.

"The ballet dancers must have uglier dresses! Remember I am the lead! And this set is all wrong. You, do it all over again, pronto!"

"You! Do you call that a hat? Get rid of it!"

Meg elbowed Christine and whispered, "Do you call that a face?"

Christine tried to contain her laughter, but accidentally let out a giggle. Big mistake…Carlotta swung her large head and nastily retorted, "What is so funny, Daae? If I recall, _I_ am the leading lady and you are nothing!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's right!"

Soon, the stagehands and cast plugged their ears as Carlotta ranted and raved about herself.

Five hours later, Christine had never been happier to get home. She plopped down on the couch, exhausted, and fell asleep watching COPS. She awoke when she heard her father come in the house. Christine his behind the door to surprise him, but she stopped when she saw her father's strange behavior.

Charles Daae collapsed on the couch, gasping for air. He was hyperventilating! When he was breathing normal again, he unplugged the phone.

He muttered aloud, "I will _not_ let you rule my life!"

Perplexed, Christine went to her room and emailed Meg about his irregular behavior, and then she climbed into bed. She fell asleep.

Charles came in and kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight, Christine. I love you. Just know I'd do anything to keep you safe."

© Copyright 2005


	3. Chapter 3 Erik's Enveloping Madness

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hello to all, here is chapter three as promised. Thank-you all SO MUCH! I loved getting your reviews. It made my day. I pray that you will continue to do so. I also want to apologize for having two different chapter two titles. I know that was confusing! Anyhow, this chapter is for my reviewers!**

**_Chapter Three- Erik's Enveloping Madness_**

Erik did not know how long he had sat in his armchair, staring at nothing for hours. He felt like he was losing control of all that surrounded him; this would not end well. His head swam with images of Luciana's dead face. His instincts told him she was murdered, but he was waiting for the autopsy report at the morgue.

His head was a roaring mess. He could hear nothing…see nothing…feel nothing other than what he had experienced when he had watched the men put the little body into the ambulance. Erik felt his world ripped from him once again. His life had not been a pretty one, but at least he had a small light in his world: Luciana. Now, she is dead, and it was his fault.

She was a witness to bribery between two unnamed suspects. Even Erik could not find any evidence incriminating anyone. A fiery and immense anger broiled within Erik as he thought of the innocent child's death.

His fists were white as his nails dug in his flesh in an inept attempt to stop the raging emotions that he felt. He wanted to crush all the tendons in the flesh of the murderer's neck.

The coroner came out, taking off his bloody latex gloves; Erik inwardly shuttered with more rage and contempt. He nonchalantly rose and looked at the aged man in his eyes.

"Well, Mr. Desslar, we meet again. I assume you want to know what I found." The coroner smirked in an eerily indifferent fashion. He had been cutting open bodies for thirty years while Erik had brought the bodies to him.

Erik nodded curtly.

The doctor handed him the file as he went into detail on what he found.

"I'm sorry, Desslar, I found no evidence indicating death by foul means. I cannot find one ounce of indicators telling me why this perfectly healthy little girl died. Her heart, brain, and other organs showed no sign of stroke, heart attack, disease, etc. She was as resolute as a little girl could be. I sent her blood to the toxicologist. He phoned me and let me know that the tests showed all negatives for poison."

Erik's heart broke as he looked at the autopsy report.

"Thank-you, Dr. Rutherford. Let the family know what you found."

Erik collapsed in his small apartment chair, staring at the fiery hearth with the file in his lap. He sipped the brandy, silently brooding.

The funeral was in full swing, and Erik could not bring himself to go.

He would go when the filthy murderer was behind bars, but first, Erik would make him suffer.

All his sneaky revenge ploys against his enemies were successful by his elusiveness. He was a 'phantom,' coming and going as he pleased. Now, he burned for blood. He would not visit Luciana's grave until he threw her murderer in jail after Erik had his 'fun' with him first.

It was then that Erik knew he was losing his grip, but he did nothing to stop it. His dead mother now stood in front of him with her finger in his face yelling over and over.

"It's all _YOUR _fault! It's all _YOUR _fault! It's all _YOUR _fault!"

His mind knew that she was a figment of his imagination, but his soul did not. Crushing his hands to his ears, he tried to drown out her screams of blame with no avail. She was screaming_ in his head._

Erik sputtered as he crawled on all fours, "No, it's not my fault…I didn't mean for her to die…I didn't mean for you to die…God help me…"

Suddenly the images changed. His mother now was beating him as she called him a freak, monster, and any other vile name. Erik felt each of her blows on his back as she kept screaming…and screaming…and screaming.

Finally, Erik erupted into a fit. With a frightful roar, he hurled the glass of brandy on the wall. The crashing sound caused all his nightmarish memories asunder as the liquor now slid down the wall. Sitting back in his chair, Erik caught his breath.

As his annoyingly nosy neighbors and other tenants knocked on the door to see if he was okay, Erik shouted at them to leave him alone. The last thing he wanted was more company.

Like a wolf stares at his prey, Erik stared at the autopsy report, in hopes of catching something the coroner missed. Suddenly, he found it.

In the comments part of the report, Erik read the coroner's notes. It was strange, but the information was all too familiar to Erik. He had seen this before.

Erik read the note aloud to himself.

_When cleaning the subject HE-354's bodily fluids, I came across something not uncommon, but unusual. The body's stomach and intestines were clean. There was no evidence of food or any stomach content. The intestines were clean of any waste material. In the kidneys, there were no traces of urine. This child is not malnourished or dehydrated, so the lack of any liquid in her body is odd. When examining subject HE-354's hands, the nails were stripped from the cuticle. Also peculiar, the subject's hair had been washed with some untraceable material. This is very strange._

Erik felt a swell rise within him, the same swell he got whenever he noticed something someone did not.

Erik finally knew _what _had killed her, not _who _killed Luciana. She had been a victim of arsenic poisoning.

**(A/N: Yes, I know that you all are wondering why the toxicology report came back negative for poisoning. Arsenic was a common poison in the 1800s. It was virtually untraceable until Dr. Marsh came and discovered how to detect arsenic poisoning in the late nineteenth century. He found that arsenic could be traced through the analysis of victim's hair, nails, stomach content, and urine. Erik knew this; he _is_ a genius, lol!)**

Erik debated whether to call the prime minister with his daughter's cause of death, but he decided against it. The funeral was still occurring. All of the sudden, Erik's cell phone rang.

With the grace of a cat, Erik sprinted…glided…over to answer it.

"Desslar here. Who is this?"

"Hello, Desslar, this is your supervisor, Agent Charles Dubois. I have called you to inform you of your next case."

"Sir, I am busy with another case…the prime minister's daughter was murdered nearly a week ago. I need to find her murderer."

"No, what you _need, _Desslar, is a reality check. For years, MI-6 has put up with your antics. We have had to clean up your mistakes and put up with your cocky attitude. You forget who is in charge. _You_ are not the boss!"

Erik smirked smugly, and retorted as he tried to calm his angered nerves, "If I recall correctly, _Sir_, if I had not broken protocol back in Kosovo, you would be dead right now. Excuse me, if I take this case priority over yours, but I am solving this one."

Erik threw his cell phone down after hanging up on the official. He knew the board would yell at him tomorrow, but he knew what took precedence.

His head now pounded in his skull as he tried to form a plan. He knew _what _killed Luciana, but there was no evidence that gave him a suspect. When the headache subsided, Erik tried to keep his grip on reality as a new wave of figments of his imagination remerge. He suddenly saw the townspeople yelling at him as they encircled him.

Erik was not a thirty-five year old MI-6 agent anymore; he was an eight-year-old boy holding his dead dog, Sasha, in his arms. He could hear him cry and plead to the brutes to leave him alone while they still hollered obscenities at Erik.

Withdrawing his head from his arms, Erik was watching the 'crowd and himself argue.'

His mind now spun as more people from his past took to view. Erik, now in his teens, 'saw' gypsies surround him with evil chants to ward him off, calling him a demon. Then the freak show master, Javert, came to view Javert began to whip Erik until the unbearable pain subsided as his skin lay in strips. His own blood blinded his eyes. The color red was everywhere.

Erik staggered around his apartment, trying to escape the redness all around him. He was followed by more onslaughts of his past. Javert's taunts and tortured beatings reverberated in his brain.

His skin in strips, Javert's scornful remarks, the bags over his face, and the endless crowds' awe and shrieks of fear at his face all played in Erik's mind.

Then the night that Erik murdered Javert to escape played out before him. All the blood that Erik shed and had shed now surrounded him and threatened to engulf him. He screamed to stop the figments and images, but that failed.

All the faces of the people he had killed were on the walls, the floors, the ceilings taunting him.

Erik pleaded to anyone to make his madness stop. Oddly enough, the doorbell rang.

Erik quickly bolted to the door and swung it open to reveal an old friend, indeed.

Nadir Khan, the daroga, stood there lifting wine and a bag of cheap food to Erik's face. His Iranian accent from years as a police chief had not changed.

"Hello, Erik. I brought some food and drink. I figured that you had not eaten nor did you have anything to eat. May I come in?"

Erik opened the door wider to let him in the apartment. Nadir took in the black curtains, rugs, and couch. He took in the music papers strewn all around the floor and the broken glass with brandy on the wall. The only drink Erik has is brandy. Nadir now was glad he came.

Nadir knew when Erik was about to self-destruct. He had come just at the right time. Erik's full black mask obscured any examination of his face, but Nadir noticed the trails of sweat on Erik's collar and the shine on his chin and lips.

"Are you okay, Erik?"

"Yes, of course I am! Why do you ask? Does my face always make me look odd, daroga?"

"It's not even like that, Erik. I am just concerned for you…"

Erik interrupted with a derisive questioning, "Why is that, Khan? Why do you care about me…a freak among humanity? Why do you risk your life to visit me?"

Nadir sighed, suddenly feeling his age of thirty-eight. He was used to Erik's cynical views and taunts. He gently put the food aside on the table and sat down. Erik took the hint and sat down as well.

"Erik, my concern for you is based off something I cannot explain. I have made sure you were okay for nearly ten years. I have done what I can to help you. You helped me immensely when my wife died giving birth to Reza. You were there for me when Reza died of cancer. I only want to do the same."

Erik did not trust people; too many have burned his soul. He eyed Nadir Khan suspiciously before contemptuously replying, "You want to help me? Ah, I get it. I am some charity case…You do not want to be in my debt. Well, Nadir, I do not need your help. I can do this on my own. I have survived independently thus far."

Nadir immediately needed a drink. He poured himself a glass of white wine as he pointedly glanced at Erik. He had not changed in all these years. Erik still had the dark brown hair, piercing golden hazel eyes, and a very pale visage. He still stood two feet taller than the six foot Nadir.

Nadir Khan, retired police chief for the Tehran police force, sipped the wine as he tried to get through to Erik.

"Whether you like it or not, Erik, I am your only friend in this world. I only want to help you. In your letters, you told me how much Luciana brought joy into your life. I was happy for you, my friend. I know you don't need my help. I only wish that you would take it."

Erik did not say anything. He merely stared at the dark-skinned man in contemplation. Erik decided to accept, not because he wanted his help, but because the demons that plagued him would disappear.

"I will agree as long as you tell me how you came to find out about Luciana's death."

Nadir stretched his long legs as Erik took a seat with a new glass of brandy in hand.

Inhaling softly, Nadir began, "I was on vacation outside of Tehran, helping U.S. forces with some terrorist locations when I got a call from a friend who lives nearby. I was told about Luciana's death. I knew then that you would be distraught. I scanned through the newspapers and pulled a few strings. Old contacts that are here in England informed me of a suspicious clause in Luciana's autopsy report. I recognized that you would find out. I took the next flight to London. MI-6 got me here as fast as they could. I only want to help you, Erik, not solve it for you."

Erik reluctantly spoke, "I am to blame for her death. I went to a meeting with her father. I wasn't supposed to be gone long…The meeting was not even necessary for that day. The next thing I knew she was just in a body bag and I needed a new car."

Raising his eyebrows, Nadir was surprised. "That was your car outside? Wow, how are you going to get to work?"

Erik smiled a rare smile, hinting Nadir that he was not going to like what Erik had to say.

"That's another reason why I am letting you help me. You're my ride to work tomorrow."

Erik suddenly got up and began to whistle as he sauntered down the hall to his room. Nadir sat there a minute, not registering what Erik said until a few minutes, and then he jumped to his feet with a shout, "Hey! Wait a second!"

**A/N: Christine and Erik will not meet until chapter six. I figure it is better to BUILD up a story plot than to just keep jumping and rush everything. I hope you review! They make me smile! I hope there was not any holes in this. Is this easy to read and keep up?**

© Copyright 2005


	4. Chapter 4 Incriminating the Criminal

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Okay, I am back from vacation and finally moved the computer to the new house. While I was away, I finished this chapter. This is a CRUCIAL chapter, so do not skip it. This is the FINISHED chapter four. Sorry eriksangel527 for scaring you, I WILL continue this story. Now read and review.**

_**Chapter Four- Incriminating the Criminal**_

Erik sat at his desk in his office while Nadir got them coffee. When Nadir handed Erik black coffee, he asked, "Erik, you need to get some sleep. It doesn't help the case if you are tired and not on your best. I heard the music last night."

Erik gruffly mumbled before pretending to ignore the Middle Eastern man as he continued to read the newspaper and sip the cold coffee.

Despite this, the darn man continued his lecture!

"Erik, you and I _both_ know when you play your opera music that you are trying to stop the past from getting to you. Have you been hearing the voices again? Has Margarita and Javert appeared to you? Are you being assaulted with the memories you tried to bury long ago?"

At the mention of his dead mother's name, Erik bristled with fury.

"Damn you, daroga! You do not know _everything_ about me. Nothing is bothering me. I was only composing a song for my opera…_Don Juan's March._"

Nadir, very nonchalant, was accustomed to Erik's bouts of anger. For Nadir, the bouts of anger he received were more of the answers he got rather than Erik's words.

Erik had spent three hours that morning at MI-6 with his boss berating him for scrutinizing Agent Dubois, who was only trying to hand out his next assignment. His superiors also criticized his motives for putting Luciana Blaine's case ahead of possible terrorist threats.

Remaining silent, Erik ignored the reprimands, and tried to conjure up ways to proceed with Luciana's investigation.

He was surprised when some crime technicians came in the boardroom with DNA evidence. It linked a suspect/witness to the Blaines' property. The man was Joseph Buquet, a forty-five year old convicted felon. His rap sheet was as long as the number of Jews killed by Hitler.

Erik was waiting for the police to bring the man in the interrogation room, so Erik could get a lead, possibly. Nadir sighed as he watched Erik from afar. He knew Erik was lost in his thoughts.

"Be careful Erik. This man most likely will not reveal anything to us. He doesn't want to go back to jail. Keep your temper in check."

"Nadir, you are not my parent. I know how to conduct myself."

Nadir just exhaled loudly and returned to reading the magazine he already had read while Erik left to interrogate Joseph Buquet. Before Erik entered the room, he questioned the officers.

"Has he said anything?"

"No, and he refused a lawyer. He claims he is innocent even though we told him we only brought him in for questioning."

Erik was surprised. Usually, a felon directly asks for a lawyer before copping to anything or even says anything.

Erik entered the room as if a dark shadow passed over the ground. The man gasped sharply before turning to the man whose form the dark engulfed.

There was only a table and a chair that Joseph sat on now. The room was uncomfortably small with no water or conveniences except for a small barred window. The police used the classic interrogation technique. They had the room temperature set for 98° to make Joseph 'sweat it out.'

Erik felt the rage beneath his soul slowly rise as he looked at the bearded, scarred skin Frenchman glare at him.

Erik brought a chair to the other side as his face burned underneath the mask as he initiated the interrogation.

"Well, Buquet, I hear that you do not want a lawyer. If you don't mind I want to ask you a few questions regarding Luciana Blaine."

Joseph's raspy voice haughtily remarked, "I don't know anyone with t'at name."

Erik quirked an eyebrow beneath the mask before responding, "Oh, is that so? Well, our crime technicians have found your DNA on a cigarette outside the Blaine's mansion where Luciana died."

"T'hat doesn't make me a killer. Okay, maybe, I do know the kid. I did some roof work for the prime minister. So what if I smoked a cigarette on my break?"

Erik chuckled darkly before stating, "Well, Buquet, this is how I see it. Someone, probably the one who Luciana saw bribing a judge, hired you to kill Luciana. You were arrested and convicted for manslaughter thirty years ago."

Erik took a deep breath, "As a result, you were more careful this time. You researched it and found arsenic poisoning was perfect. You were able to break into her room while she napped and injected her with arson while I was away. During that time, you cut her nails, washed her hair, and cleansed her system with activated charcoal before leaving. You assumed the coroner would rule food poisoning as the cause of death. You never counted on me being on the case, Buquet. That was your fatal error."

Joseph paled slightly before saying, "You're crazy! Why would I kill a little girl?"

"That's easy. You did it for money. Money is the root of all kinds of evil, Buquet."

"You're freakin' crazy masked man! I wouldn't kill a kid for money… It's all your fault that she died. Where were you?"

Erik's anger suddenly boiled over as he lunged at Joseph. How dare this insolent fool call him 'crazy?' It _wasn't _his fault. His knuckles started to turn pink as he clutched Buquet's throat, crushing the tendons.

The man's face turned to a blue hue as Erik violently threw him into the wall, "You killed her! You did it! I will make sure you pay dearly!"

Buquet's throat was purple and swollen as he huddled in fear in the corner. Erik lifted the metal chair high above his head, poised to smash his face. Suddenly, Nadir burst in the room and dragged a furiously fighting masked man out of the interrogation room.

Once Erik drank some water with difficulty due to the mask, Nadir took him to the office.

"You lost it in there, my friend."

"I know that! He told me it was all my fault, and my mind blacked out. He deserved to die for killing Luciana."

"The law still rules, Erik. No one is above the law, not even you, my friend."

Erik contemptuously processed the daroga's words before he went to do some paperwork. He and Nadir left around 8 o' clock. Erik was not finished with Joseph Buquet. He had a plan.

Lucky for Erik, he didn't have to come up with another plan to entertain Nadir while he went out to get Buquet. Nadir, a police officer himself, was enthralled with the American show COPS, and there was an all-night marathon on television.

While Nadir plopped on Erik's comfortable couch, Erik finished his preparations. He equipped himself with the Punjab lasso, security decoder, small pen laser, glass cutter, black gloves, small camera, and, of course, his full-face black mask. He dressed in all black pants, shirt, jacket, and shoes.

Erik poked his head out to see Nadir stuffing his face with caramel popcorn, his eyes glued to the screen as sirens blasted the room. Erik smirked and crept to the library. He locked the door and strolled over to the piano. There, with pale bony and long fingers he put in a CD recording of his _Don_ _Juan_ in the CD player. Music flooded the once silent room.

When Erik pulled open the glass doors to his balcony, his whole body stiffened in shock as the bitter cold seeped through his clothes. With a glance at the darkened skies, Erik was glad that the cold cloudy night would give him cover. He jumped off the balcony to the tree then to the ground. He walked along the road silently as he contemplated what Nadir told him earlier.

Nadir informed Erik that the records of the man that Buquet killed were inaccessible. Joseph was fifteen when he killed the man. Since he was a minor, his trial records and all affiliated with it were off-limits to the public.

With his decoder, Erik was able to decrypt all security passwords in order to hack in the security system in enough time for him to infiltrate the building. Once inside the lab, Erik used the darkened corners to hide from patrolling security guards.

Quickly pacing to the third sub-basement where the records and files were located, Erik tried to gain access to the autopsy report of the man Joseph killed. Erik kept the lights off to avoid any suspicion.

In the room, there were six rows of ten filing cabinets with over 4,000 criminal records. Erik found the juvenile records in the last aisle. Ten minutes of extensive searching revealed Buquet's file. The folder was yellow and tattered, the papers very fragile. Erik was forced to remove his gloves in order to handle the paper. Erik felt a rising amount of pride swell up within him as he mentally saw the cage crashing down on the Frenchman. He went through the papers.

Going through the file, Erik pieced together Buquet's past together. Joseph Buquet grew up poor in Stratford, England. His French family spent all their money to come to England. As Joseph grew older, he got tired of not having conveniences like the other kids. Out of sheer desperation, he stole money from a well-known politician's political campaign that Buquet volunteered to help.

When the politician had Joseph prosecuted, Judge Phil Chaumont was assigned the case. Buquet, young and stupid as he was, blindly attempted to bribe the judge. He did not want to go to jail, albeit Joseph would only have had to serve a few days and do some community service. Too bad he did not do some research.

Afraid of the prospect of going to jail, Joseph pulled a knife and stabbed the judge twenty-two times in the alley. He thought that with no witnesses he could get away, but he left the knife in the alley. The jury easily convicted him, but due to a trial error on the prosecutor's part, Joseph received the minimum sentence of three to five years. He was released when he reached eighteen.

Erik knew that it was likely Joseph would be convicted for Luciana's death for life after arsenic was found in his car and this case. A light briefly flashed in the room as a security guard walked by the door. Erik recoiled back behind the aisle cabinets and steadied his breathing. He glanced at the open file on the floor and prayed the guard would not enter the room. He heard the guard say on his walkie-talkie, "Nothing is suspicious here, Mendel. It's pro'lly a bad circuit."

Erik slowly let out the breath he had been holding and crept back to the file as the guard left. Quietly as a cat, he took pictures of the papers, autopsy report, trial proceedings, and court documents. He then returned the file with gloved hands back in its proper place.

Genius he was, Erik remembered the forensic science class he had taken at Cambridge University. There could not be a fingerprint search done on the file because the papers were too worn to be tested.

And as quickly as he entered, he left.

The London streets were dark and wet as the buildings that loomed over them seemed like decrepit structures. Erik unconsciously pulled his coat lapels tighter around him. The angry skies finally unleashed a torrential downpour. It was late and no one was out except for a masked man who was all alone searching for truth no matter how trivial it was. A few police cars sped past Erik chasing carjackers. The rumble forth of thunder quaked as an inner turmoil raged within Erik. Like the streets drowned by rain, Erik felt he was drowning from the voices in his head. Erik was not crazy; he was just subconsciously not together.

Even with the rain, he could not stop the feeling that Luciana's death was a small part in an even bigger mystery. For now, the demons of his past seemed smothered away by an agitation to know the full story behind her death.

The downpour finally subsided when Erik came to his apartment. Using his Punjab lasso, he climbed onto the tree branch and leapt unto the balcony. When he entered the library, the music had ceased playing and the power was out.

Erik sighed, as the room was visibly cold from the loss of heat. With artistically sensitive hands, he unlocked the door and found Nadir lying on the couch with his arms draped over his eyes, snoring loudly. An opened bag of potato chips and a bottle of white wine…Erik's _good_ white wine…sat open empty on the floor. Crumbs and newspapers were strewn around the room.

Smiling triumphantly to himself, Erik quietly walked to his bedroom door when he heard a voice say…

"Where were you, Erik?"

Erik glowered at Nadir who now stood behind him. Turning slowly, Erik maliciously snarled, "It's none of your damn business, Khan! I go where I please."

Nadir folded his arms across his chest.

"Do you remember Iran, Erik?" A pause. "When you left that one night and murdered the minister's nemesis? I was nearly executed for the crime you committed."  
"I got you out of trouble Khan. You're still here, aren't you?"

Nadir sighed as he dropped his arms to his sides.

"Erik, the point I am trying to make is every time you take matters into your own hands, it always blows up in our faces."

Erik briefly stared at Nadir in the doorway and stated coyly before closing the door "Nadir, I do not possibly understand. I just went for my nightly stroll since I cannot be seen in the light of men."

Nadir sighed as the next thing he was the oak wood door shut in his face. He shook his head solemnly before returning to the couch in the dark room. His eyes shortly looked at Erik's door as _Dies Irae_ blasted the room. The only thought the middle-eastern man had was, '_How much trouble is he going to be in when his plan unfolds?'_

Then the dark-skinned man slept unfit on the black couch.

The next few days, Erik had the pictures developed. Nadir had gone across the English Channel to catch up with an old friend while Erik had gone to MI-6 Headquarters in London. A misty fog had beset the city, comforting Erik to know he was concealed form human sight.

Today was the start of Buquet's trial for murdering Luciana Blaine. The media pounded the guards to get in the courthouse lobby, but to no avail. After talking with his superior, Dubois and showing him the evidence, Dubois was ecstatic to 'nab this criminal.'

Dubois decided to wait until he needed to use the evidence. Buquet's lawyers were London's most expensive, and Erik now wondered if his suspicions were right. Was there a bigger mystery beyond Luciana's death? Joseph could never afford such lawyers. Erik decided to stay in his office and catch up on writing papers that were due two months ago.

Three hours into his work, Erik received a phone call from Dubois's secretary informing him that Joseph's trial was over. An immense feeling of anxiety filled Erik so fast, a migraine set itself in his head. He grabbed his coat and went to the courthouse.

As Erik walked in the lobby's chaotic scene, he caught a glimpse of Buquet waling past him with his lawyers. The unshaven dark-skinned face with black beady eyes met Erik's and Joseph's scarred upper lip smirked with evil intent. Before Erik could react, Joseph, his lawyers, and the media walked out the doors.

In stunned disbelief, Erik gawked at the door. How could Buquet be free?

"DESSLAR!" An angry voice roared his name revealed a furious vein-popping Dubois. Erik nonchalantly turned stone-faced to his superior.

"In the conference room, now!"

Erik calmly walked in and sat down as Dubois stormed in the room and fumed, "Desslar, how could you be such an idiot? You made a mockery of me and MI-6! We had Buquet in our fingers and _you _let him slip away! He, a murderer of a little girl you were supposed to protect is _free_ because of you!"

Erik cocked his head to the side, bemused by the scene. There was no way he got caught. Yet, he was filled with rage at the thought of Joseph getting away. Dubois continued to yell.

"Do you think this is funny, Desslar? Well, look!" He threw a police report to Erik on the table. The documents showed Erik's fingerprints on his MI-6 identification file and an unknown set of prints on Buquet's file. The test results showed they matched.

APHAIS, an American adopted idea, stored all the government officials' and felons' fingerprints. That's how the lab matched the prints so quickly, but how could they get the file's fingerprints? Smudges!

Erik mentally berated himself. He had been too absorbed in getting Joseph; he lost his instincts and left smudges on the ink and dust on the file.

Erik closed his eyes and leaned his masked forehead in the palm of his hand.

"You humiliated everyone in MI-6, everyone in the London justice system, and not to mention ME in court today! His lawyers jumped on me with this evidence file the moment I mentioned Buquet's past crime. You not only jeopardized the case, you let that man go free! _You are an MI-6 agent!_ You know better than to do things illegally!"

Dubois ranted for another ten minutes as Erik waited for the inevitable to come.

"You are suspended for one year, Desslar. You are _off_ the case! Your pay is terminated and you are forbidden to step foot in headquarters until one year from today! Get out of my sight, you idiot!"

The masked man stood and simply responded "Gladly" before exiting the courthouse. He returned to his apartment.

When the judge received the file, he declared a mistrial due to evidence found through illegal means. Erik hated himself for what happened, but he _would_ get Buquet. He would make him pay for what he did to Luciana.

As Erik entered his apartment, he found Nadir Khan watching news of Joseph's trial. Turning off the television, Nadir stood up and merely stared at Erik.

"Don't say a word, Khan."

"You know it is coming."

"I don't need to hear it."

"Ah, I think you do. Karma…I think that is what people call it. What was it I said? Oh, I believe it went something like this: 'Every time you take matters in your own hands, it blows up in our faces.' Yes, that is what I said."

"Do shut-up with the bloody sarcasm, Khan, before I bloody hit you in your face. I am not in the mood."

Nadir knew Erik better than most; their past went back a long time. Nadir gently asked, "Why did you go to such drastic lengths?"

They both sat down as Erik explained in Arabic, "I couldn't function without seeing Luciana's face…dead pale face…I always saw her small body being put in the body bag in the ambulance. My mind kept showing images of her body cut open with a Y-incision and her intestines and organs spilling out on the cold table. I _needed_ to give her justice, or else she would become another demon of my past."

Nadir folded his hands together and responded, "Although I do not condone your illegal methods, I do understand. Even though you will not ask me to help, I will help you anyhow. You are welcome, too. I will look around in Buquet's apartment. He has already left the country on a private jet. As an old police chief, you and I know there's a bigger mystery."

Erik merely nodded. That night, Nadir corresponded with associates and Erik composed horribly haunting music for his opera. He lost all tracts of time before Nadir entered the room and left.

No more music inspirations flooded through him now. Erik was both physically and emotionally drained. He had not slept for at least forty-eight hours. All alone, the demons took control of Erik.

Lily Depravio, a beautiful girl of seventeen, with eyes like pools of water and chestnut hair cascading down her shoulders, stood on the balcony. Erik, lost in the insanity, reached for his first love. She smiled and giggled as she wandered to the edge. She turned to Erik and her smile faded to a face of pure horror as she screamed with fear, tumbling off the edge.

Erik, believing she was real, ran to save her, but it was too late. She had plunged to her death with the look of pure terror still etched on her face.

Lily's family had taken Erik in as a young teen and he fell in love with Lily. On the rooftop of the family home, she removed his mask and from sheer terror plummeted to her death.

Erik's eyes glazed over as he literally saw and heard Lily's father Giovanni. Giovanni, a good man, had given the love of architecture to Erik. He taught him everything he knew. Giovanni was the first to see Lily on the round with her body battered purple and black, all bones crushed, and blood everywhere.

Giovanni evolved into an enraged father and tried to kill Erik. Erik barely escaped the city. Erik saw the father's enraged form 'come' at him, yelling, "It's all your fault!"

As Giovanni disappeared, Erik clamped his hands over his ears to shut out the screams of all the people who screamed at his deformed visage. Erik tore his mask off in anguish to shut out the shouts as he ran in every room, smashing all the mirrors in the apartment.

The mirrors were crushed and gone; glass was everywhere. Erik stood facing the smashed one in his bedroom. His chest heaved with short breaths as his rage subsided. He stared morosely at his reflection at the remaining glass shards. The golden eyes now were dark black with enlarged pupils. The way his brows were set created a shadow over his eyes. After he got rid of the remaining rage by hurling the mirror off the wall, he did what he usually did. He drank brandy.

Nadir came to Erik's home with an envelope. Nadir was not surprised to see Erik sitting motionless in his chair, sipping brandy and staring at nothing. His hands were shredded from glass and all reflective surfaces were smashed. It was his usual behavior.

Nadir then did what he usually did best…clean up Erik's messes. After bandaging his fists, Nadir brought the masked man back into reality. The only thing that Nadir found was a brochure of the Opera de Rennes in Rennes, France. Buquet would likely go there, but Nadir and Erik agreed it was their only lead. So, another sleepless night passed for Erik as the two formed a plan.

**A/N: WHEW! That has to be the longest chapter I have EVER written! I hope this makes up for the lack of updates! I hope to get MORE reviews for this extra chapter length. I appreciate the ones I do have. I love you all. This chapter goes to eriksangel527!**

© Copyright 2005


	5. Chapter 5 Innocent People with Criminal

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Nothing of true interest happens in this chapter; it is just a precursor of when Christine and Erik finally meet. Sorry, there is no Erik or Nadir. However, it is IMPORTANT that all readers re-read chapter 4 before reading this one! I uploaded the FULL VERSION of that chapter. Now, read, enjoy, and review for me please! NEXT CHAPTER ERIK AND CHRISTINE MEET! authoress does a victory dance**

**_Chapter Five- Innocent People with Criminal Behavior_**

Joseph Buquet sat on the jet plane in triumphant victory. He had outwitted that stupid masked freak, and now, he would taste his freedom forever. That masked man would never find him. Joseph had left no trace of evidence behind.

However, Joseph still needed money and a job, and he knew exactly how to get one. He pulled out the plane's laptop and emailed a mysterious message to the one or ones involved in the whole conspiracy.

_Wednesday, August 3, 2005_

_9:35 P.M._

_To: owe me big for w'at I did for you, and now it is time you pay up. I will need a new job and more money. I am heading to work at the Opera de Rennes, but the managers can'ot know about my criminal past. You 'ad better make it disappear or else I will reveal all to the MI-6 agent. I 'ave nothing to lose, but you have much. Wire 5o,ooo dollars into my Swiss account like last time. This time make sure no one knows the wiser. You can'ot afford to make the same mistake again…If you try to kill me, I 'ave a person of interest, who will, in case of my untimely death, will publish all accounts of your involvement._

_Cordially,_

_J.B._

_P.S. T'anks for the jet…_

Joseph put the computer aside after he sent the e-mail. He knew that he would get what he wanted.

Too much had happened for any to back down. He waited until he got a reply to the email he had just sent.

_Wednesday, August 3, 2005_

_9:39 P.M._

_To: yes, the money will be wired as soon as possible. Good for you. You used the secret e-mail account. The job as a stagehand at the Opera de Rennes has been reserved for you already. You need to lay low, so that the MI-6 agent CANNOT find out where you have been stashed. Oh, and the next time you make threats like that again, you will be eliminated. Try not to destroy my jet with your filth. I just had it cleaned._

_That is all_

_Wait for your next assignment, and for God's sake, keep your mouth shut this time!_

_--_

Buquet smiled. He was not worried about the masked agent. He escaped and now was home free. All he had to do was sit back and his wishes would be granted. The jet arrived on time in the airport of Rennes, France.

Joseph retrieved his luggage, hailed a taxi, and arrived at the doorstep of the beautiful opera house. Buquet had no time for beauty; he only cared about the women and money. He assured himself he'd have plenty of both.

The managers greeted him and escorted him around the theater, showing him where everything was. His duties were to clean the stage, make sure the back drops were secured, and other such nonsense. Joseph truly did not care what his responsibilities were; he could not lose his job.

For the first week, Joseph remained quiet, but of course, like most Frenchmen, his ego went straight to his head.

Christine's feet hurt from ballet practice for the past three hours. She could not wait until she arrived home and see her father that she loved dearly. All throughout her life, she could not have asked for a better father than Charles Daae. He was always attentive to her needs and took care of her when things were bad.

However, her father's odd behavior from the previous week had stretched out the whole time. She never questioned him directly about it; she feared his anger. Was this was all in her head? Was nothing wrong with him? She did not want him to think she was crazy.

Meg cheered her up; that was Christine's friend. Meg Giry, another bubbly blonde, always was upbeat and positive. She was very intelligent, but hid it underneath a front of dim-wittedness. It was her mechanism to fit in with the other girls. Meg had become Christine's rock and confidant.

Without Meg, Christine would go crazy.

They sat at Starbucks where they usually met every Thursday to spend time together outside the opera house.

"Meg, you don't understand. He's acting so weird. He has not slept and stays up all night talking on the phone and writing letters."

"Oh, Christine, you are such a drama queen sometimes. Maybe he has a lady friend."

"No, he only loved my mother, Meg. Besides, my father tells me everything. Nothing is secret between us."

"Chrissy, I hate to tell you this, but no one tells anyone everything. Everyone has secrets."

"I don't have a secret."

"Well, then, you are not like the rest of us, humans!"

The girls laughed heartily, and then they went shopping for the upcoming Masquerade, even though it was four months away.

Girls like to shop, especially for Meg and Christine.

The house was very quiet when Meg Giry opened the front door. She was supposed to have been home two hours ago, and dreaded her mother's known fury. It was ten past midnight.

She and Christine had got carried away with romantic movie marathon and had watched three consecutively. Even though they were twenty and nineteen, they both lived with their parent. Each had to follow the rules. Both parents grew accustomed to saying _"You'll obey my rules as long as you're under my roof"_ in every lecture.

Even so, Christine always managed to convince her softhearted dad to relinquish punishment. Meg was lucky enough to convince her mother to lessen her punishment. Both girls, however, loved their parents deeply…just not when they were mad.

To Meg's surprise, Antoinette Giry ordered her to go to her room.

'Wait a second,' Meg thought mentally, 'There's no way she would allow me to go to my room without a lecture. Now, who's acting strange?'

Silently creeping to her mother's room, Meg observed the slightly opened door, and peeked in the room. She saw her mother's black-dressed figure leaning over the threefold mirror and reading a letter.

Wanting desperately to find out whom the letter was from, Meg knocked on the door.

"Mama? Mama, may I come in?"

"Yes, Megan, you may."

When Meg entered the bland room, she noticed the letter was folded and put in the envelope. She saw some odd handwriting on it in a different language, which only served to heighten her curiosity.

"Mama, who is the letter from?"

"Meg, if you must know, it is from an old friend of mine."

Meg would have inquired further, but her mother walked her out of the room, lecturing her on the importance of responsible behavior. It was then Meg realized that perhaps her mother had a man friend she was keeping secret.

However, Meg's only thought was 'Man, I really need to keep my nosiness to a minimum, sometimes.'

Later Meg awoke from her sleep to find her mother in the guest bedroom, sweeping and dusting. She _never_ went in there. That had been her father's office before he passed away.

_Had the entire world of parents lost their minds?_

Meanwhile, Christine had troubles of her own. She pretended to be asleep, only to spy on her father, and take notes on his peculiar behavior. Silently, slipping out of her bed, she crept to the door and cracked it open as she took out a pen and notepad.

For ten minutes, her father paced with anguish etched on his face and agitation in his movements. He raked his hand through his hair in bewilderment. His eyes kept glancing to the coffee table and the floor, as if he was in contemplation of something.

To Christine's surprise, her father went and sat down on the couch and rolled something into paper. It was too dark for her to see what he was doing until he picked up the rolls and went out on the balcony.

Christine had to move to her window to see what he was doing. He was smoking out on the balcony. 'What in the world,' she thought to herself. Then, realization hit her like a brick wall, as a painful recognition caused her heart to ache.

He was smoking marijuana! Her father was a drug-addict! He never smoked in his life and now he was doing something illegal. How could he do such a thing? Her grandfather died from smoke inhalation, for crying out loud!

She e-mailed Meg and tried to get some sleep. She sang a lullaby her father taught her when she was six years old. He sang it to her when her mother died.

_Hush little child…_

_The world doesn't exist_

_The pains we have suffered are gone for a while_

_Since the night has come and brings its mist_

_Imagine it covering your heart_

_Covering the wounds of loss you felt_

_That night when pain began to start_

_Feel the iciness of pain melt…and_

_The angel of the night will take you in his wings_

_Where no one can hurt you…no one can find you_

_And you won't remember the pain when he sings_

_When he sings the lullaby of the one he lost, too._

_The song he calls Midnight Music…_

**(A/N: Yeah, that's original, so I apologize for the crappiness it is)**

Tears cascaded down Christine's face when she finished the song. She had known no mother, but the absence of one in her life had created a huge void. She had no mother to run to get comfort, to tell her about life and love, to tell secrets…

The loss was one that Christine tried to avoid. She wanted and yearned to be loved by a man, to share her dreams…her life…her fears with…

Everyone she loved had died, abandoned, or left her: her mother, father, and Raoul, her childhood sweetheart. He broke her heart the day he told her he joined the Navy and left in two days. He had a noble heart, but he did not know that he carried hers. Yet, Christine was more worried about her father.

_What in the world is happening?_

The next day, Phillipe de Chagny leaned his forehead into his hand as he tried to prevent a ghastly migraine from coming. For the past two hours, he and the new managers had tried to deal with Carlotta Garibaldi.

His younger brother, Raoul was in the Navy and recently called to say he would be back in three months before he returned to Rennes.

Andre, the more temperamental one now exclaimed, "Ms. Carlotta! We have appeased you as much as we can. We have given you the backstage room, a suite in the finest hotel, three dozen flowers to your dog, two season passes to your in-laws. We even paid to have their plane tickets! We understand your frustration with having to let another woman have a long aria, but that is what the opera requires. We cannot discriminate or we ALL will be without jobs!"

Firmin was the more timid one, but he had had enough with the pompous Spanish woman. When Carlotta started to cry, well, try to cry…(the botox had made her eyes slant so far to the sides, her tear ducts were strained) Firmin made one last pacification for her.

"Ms. Garibaldi, I promise to have your dog manicured and groomed every week at the finest dog groomer for two years…free of charge. I will even offer you a 2,000 dollar raise."

At the sound of cash registers opening in her head, the Spanish/Chinese looking woman thought of more money. Carlotta was greedy; she believed she was owed so much by everyone.

"Make it 3,000."

As the two numbskull managers were about to agree, Phillipe de Chagny, who was always well mannered and calm, blew up.

"Enough! I am the patron to this opera. I pay the bills and pay the salaries. Here is what _I_ say! You, Ms. Garibaldi, are the most absurdly pretentious, narcissistic, and covetous excuse for a woman I ever known. You will sing in this opera and will accept Firmin's offer of the dog grooming and a _1_,000-dollar raise, or else I will make sure you will sing in no opera ever again! Now, I expect you to go to rehearsal and do what you are being paid to do!"

Carlotta's face flushed with absolute fury. She grew accustomed to having power over the managers, but she forgot that the patron was ultimately in control. He owned the building. She stared daggers at Phillipe before she swallowed her pride, a rather large gulp at that, and left.

The managers profusely thanked Phillipe, who really needed a drink at that moment.

Joseph Buquet, made himself popular amongst the ladies with his tall tales about how he got his scars. Soon enough, he had run out of stories to tell, but he was resourceful.

He gathered a large group, including the ballet girls, Carlotta, Piangi, and make-up artists, and such. He had become known for his narratives around the opera house. He did not want to disappoint.

He turned off the lights so the lit candles gave off the only illumination on the stage. The group seated in the audience seating of the theater waited anxiously in anticipation.

Joseph then began the tale, "I barely survived an ordeal with an assassin…"

The girls gasped while Carlotta rolled her eyes.

Christine whispered to Meg, "I really don't want to be here."

"Christine, he is really good. These stories are true, you know."

Buquet smiled and began the slightly altered tale, "I was walking down the sidewalk. It was a misty evening on the streets of London. I was enjoying m'self as I walked down the road w'en I 'eard a lady screaming. It did send chills up me bones. I ran to the alley where I 'eard her and I saw a dark figure loom over her. He dressed in all black, had gold eyes like fire and wore a black mask over he entire face…He was a murderer! I saw it w'th me own eyes. He told me to bugger off. He was trying to take the 'oman! He had killed the man! He had a rope…"

Joseph pulled out a rope. One in the group shrieked in fear as he slowly wrapped it around his wrist, continuing the somewhat distorted narrative.

"Within an instant, he flicked his wrist and 'ad the rope around my neck. He yanked me to him and he smiled a wicked smile. He could not have been human…No, he said, 'You should have kept your hand at the level of your eyes.' He was about to kill me. I saw it in his eyes when I knew w'at I 'ad to do."

He paused with emphasis. Christine looked at Meg with boredom. She hated wise tales, and this one took the cake.

Meg was enthralled, however, with the story of the masked man.

Joseph yelled, "I yanked his mask off, and he let go of the rope with a holler. He stood there in shock and I did, too. His face was like Death's head with yellow skin, no nose…just a hole where a nose never grew! His eyes were in two sunken eye sockets like a living skull! His mouth opened and it looked like hell's fury was about to be released! I then ran as fast as I could, with the rope still around my neck. When I looked back, he was gone. This is the very rope he tried to use to kill me!"

He threw the rope and the massive group screamed. Suddenly the doors burst open, and hell's fury now was in Madame Giry's eyes. The group now scattered to the exits as she berated Joseph.

"Joseph Buquet, keep your mouth shut, or else someone else will shut it for you. You should not be telling wise tales to my ballet students. If you come near them again, I will personally see to it that you will pay!"

Joseph knew he had said too much already, and immediately retreated to his apartment behind the stage.

All had gone except for Meg, who asked her mother, "Mama, who is the friend who wrote you the letter?"

Her mother sighed and austerely replied, "He's a friend from long ago."

**A/N: Finally, chapter five is done. I hope you all enjoyed all the yelling and fighting. It is always fun for me to write Carlotta's part. I pray you will review…Anyhow, I am excited to write about Erik and Christine meeting in the next chapter. I hope you all are, too.**

© Copyright 2005


	6. Chapter 6 The Haunted Creates a Haunting

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Well, here we are at the start of the action and the meeting of Erik and Christine! Finally, I have gotten to this point. I deeply thank all my reviewers who inspired me to get this up. Please review. I appreciate all my readers! I am so excited for you all….I LOVED writing this chapter!**

**_Chapter Six- The Haunted Creates a Haunting_**

Christine cursed to herself as she stumbled up the stairs to the opera house. She had slept through the storm the previous night, causing her alarm clock to shut off. Looking at her wristwatch, she was one hour late. Madame Giry was going to murder her!

Christine carried her bag filled with sheets of music. She wanted to practice songs to get her mind off her father after ballet practice. Pulling the immense doors open to the lobby, she ran passed the sculptures and the chandelier and down the hall.

Erik had arrived to the Opera de Rennes yesterday and investigated his new 'home.' He tested the soundness of the structure, examined the building and its interior, and made mental notes of all entrances and exits. Before arriving, he had researched the house to familiarize himself with the surroundings.

Erik knew the opera house; he had helped in the reconstruction on it eight years earlier. He even remodeled it to his liking by creating secret passageways in the theater and an underground home. You see, Erik built the house in the old catacombs, used during the time of the Communards, under the theater during the remodeling of the structure.

He now strolled down the hallway. No one was here; all were in rehearsal of _Faust_, his favorite opera. Although he loved the opera, he hated Carlotta Garibaldi…He had to suffer listening to her mediocre voice crack under the immense aria. Then, she strutted across the stage, barking…and he meant…barking orders at everyone.

Erik was glad he had managed to avoid anyone's sight. Now, he relaxed a little and absorbed the beauty of the architecture while he continued down the hall, lost in thought.

"Oh, crap, she is going to kill me!" Christine verbalized to herself.

She tried to search for the song she had written last night in the bag of music as she continued to walk down the hall. So immersed into looking, she failed to notice the masked man who was observing the paintings on the wall.

They collided together and Christine fell unto the floor with a thump, and the masked man tumbled to the floor with her. Both stared, astounded at the accident as sheets of music fluttered around them.

Christine shook her head to regain her senses and stared at the man before her. He dressed in an all-black suit and a slightly opened white silk shirt that exposed some of his chest. He had a very muscular form, much as Christine tried to avoid noticing, and he wore a white mask over his entire face. This man could not be the man Joseph talked about yesterday. This masked man had beautiful golden eyes with such kindness and…sadness.

Christine's heart broke with the pain she observed in his eyes. As soon as they realized they were staring, both stumbled to there feet.

Christine blushed furiously as she quickly spoke, "Oh, I am so sorry! I am such a ditz…I was not watching where I was going…Are you hurt? What can I do? Hi, I'm Christine Daae."

Erik stood, facing the gorgeous woman in front of him. He almost forgot she had spoken to him; she had spoken so fast, it took a moment for it to register with him.

He smirked faintly, "Hello to you, too. I am not hurt, and there is nothing you can do for me. You can call me Erik."

Erik stooped down and picked up the sheets of music, scanning the titles of the songs. He handed them to her as she gave him a thankful look.

"Are you a singer, Ms. Daae?"

Christine flashed him a vague look before smiling a devastatingly attractive smile.

"Well, I am a ballet dancer. I want to be a singer, but I am not good enough…"

"Don't underestimate your ability. I am quite positive your vocal quality surpasses the one that Carlotta possesses."

Christine tossed her head back a little and gave a genuine laugh at his unintended joke. Erik's heart jumped in his chest for a moment. Perhaps, this woman was different from the rest…

'What am I thinking,' Erik viciously questioned in his mind. 'How can I expect this stunning woman to see the man I am behind the mask if I cannot even bear to look at my own face?'

Suddenly, his smile was gone. Then, he heard her ask him more questions about himself that he had rather not answer.

"So, Erik, do you sing?"

"I did in the past."

"Why did you stop?"

"Personal issues stopped me."

"What do you do for a living, Erik? Did it bring you the opera house?"

"I work at various jobs, and yes, I suppose you could say it brought me here. Listen, Ms. Daae, I must go. I have a meeting with an associate here. It's been a pleasure meeting you."

Erik could have sworn her eyes glazed with sadness. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of hurting her feelings or making her feel that he did not like her. As unusual as it seemed, he liked this woman. She had a good heart, pure and innocent.

"Ms. Daae, if I offended you, I apologize. I did not mean to imply I do not like you. You are a very kind woman, but I truly _do_ have a meeting with an associate. Perhaps I shall see you around. By the way, do you happen to know if a man by the name Joseph Buquet works here?"

She smiled, relieved to know he liked her, and responded honestly, "Yes, he's known for telling lies and fabricated stories. He is a stagehand here. Madame Giry, the ballet mistress, berated him for telling a story that he had out-witted a masked man. Anyhow, I detest that man."

Erik smiled a small and genuine smile at the woman as he fumed with fury at the thought of him 'out-witting' him, "Thank-you, Ms. Daae, you have helped me very much. Please keep our meeting between us."

"I promise, Erik, that I will. Will you be around?"

Erik smirked inward as he retorted, "Oh, yes, I _will_ be around. Perhaps, we will meet again, Ms. Daae?"

Christine smiled and nodded. Erik then walked away and out of the theater as Christine ran to ballet practice, thinking about the obscure behavior of the masked man.

Nadir Khan had been with Erik searching the theater when they parted ways. He now sat watching the Faust rehearsal. Carlotta was screaming at everyone, which made Nadir's head ache.

Once lunchtime came around and the cast took a break to get a bite to eat, Nadir made his presence known. Madame Giry remained behind as the rest of the cast left.

"Hello, Madame Giry."

She turned around and Nadir saw her ten years younger when they originally met. They had been long-time friends, meeting in Iran. Her husband was a diplomat and she was a ballet dancer. When a French official was murdered in Iran, he was sent to meet with Nadir about the case. He had brought his wife.

They had become close when Erik was severely beaten and locked in a cage. They helped him tend to the masked man's wounds while he recovered in the hospital.

"Hello, Mr. Khan. Why don't you just call me Antoinette?"

"I will as long as you call me Nadir. I am sorry to throw all of this responsibility on you, but you know I cannot watch Erik all alone. He's worse this time."

"Well, I have prepared a room for you if you need it. In addition, I have already bought provisions that you and Erik will need. I also have sedatives in case we might need to use them for Erik."

"You always thought of everything when it concerned Erik. How is Megan? I trust she has you wrapped around her finger?"

"Who? That cannot be my Megan. You must be confusing me with some other mother. Oh, she is fine. She always talks my ear off. Christine Daae has shaped into a nice woman. You would be pleased. I adopted her as if she were my own child. Megan and she are great friends."

The two old friends caught up as they continued to converse about life, Erik, and loss while going to lunch.

Erik had tried to get that beautiful blonde-haired woman out of his head but to no avail. Her beauty permeated his every thought. He found himself following her and watching her from a dark private box until rehearsal was over.

Suddenly, everyone took a break for lunch. Erik scanned for the woman he had met. She went out to the hallway, Carlotta in tow behind her. Erik did not like the sinking feeling he received in the pit of his stomach.

He quickly exited the box, running down the stairs to the hallway. Why was he doing this? He had never cared for someone he just met. It took Nadir five years to gain his full trust, so why was Christine different? He would soon find out.

Hiding from their view, Erik hid behind a pillar where Christine and Carlotta stood nearby. All were gone, the place vacant except for the three of them.

"Christine, what is this…music? I did not know you sing. Are you trying to take my job, you little trollop? Well, I will make sure you will never get it."

"I'm not trying to do anything, Ms. Garibaldi, I swear."

Erik clenched his fists in fury as he heard Christine's pleading voice. He did not like hearing her being unjustifiably accused.

"Then, what is your angle? Did you make Piangi sick? You little twit… You are trying to get me sick, too, so you can steal my job."

"It's not my fault that Mr. Garibaldi is sick. How can you say that? I do not even converse with you outside this theater."

Carlotta tore into Christine for another ten minutes much to Erik's chagrin until Christine ran away in tears.

He could relate to Ms. Daae. He knew what a cruel world could do to a person. Being blamed for something you did not do was hard, but when someone like Carlotta jumped on a sweet girl like Christine burned Erik's blood.

He would get revenge. Erik would take vengeance for Ms. Daae, who was ignorant of the newfound bond between him and her. Smiling as he formed a plan, Erik took his leave.

When Erik arrived at the diner to meet with Nadir and Madame Giry for dinner, Nadir suspiciously narrowed his eyes.

"Where have _you_ been, Erik?"

Erik sat down, folded his hands on the table, and responded, "I had to take care of something. Is everything ready?"

Madame Giry spoke, "I checked all the entrances and exits to the underground lair. I also made sure it was safe for you to return, Erik. Do not worry about your furnishings, for I cleaned your furniture and other things. You can return to it anytime."

Nadir took his turn, "I have initiated surveillance on Joseph. I have a few friends from Paris down here undercover to see what they can find out."

Erik nodded, "That is good. Remember the plan, you two. The cast or other members of the theater cannot see me. You must swear not to reveal my existence to anyone. It is imperative that I remain as the infamous haunting of the theater. I shall handle all events and strange occurrences to prove that there is a 'phantom of the opera.' This will divert any attention to you and the undercover officers."

The three agreed and began to discuss how they would get Buquet to reveal the _whole_ story behind the death of Luciana Blaine.

Two hours later, Erik retreated to his underground lair full of relief to be alone and away from man. He collapsed on his bed to get some rest. He had not slept in thirty-six hours and while his mind kept reeling, his body settled into exhaustion. Then he began to dream.

Erik was walking in a foggy and misty cemetery, searching for the beautiful voice who was singing a song. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a large enveloping cloak as his black fedora concealed his mask. He found Christine Daae at a grave sight, singing a sad requiem to a headstone.

Tears had left trails on her cheeks with her face was so crestfallen. Suddenly, Erik began to sing. His dazzling tenor voice caressed her as she turned to him. He wrapped his arms around her so that her back was against his chest and continued to sing his heart to her.

_I took one look and something snapped inside, I said I love your eyes  
You took my heart, you took my breath away, I felt my temperature rise  
You said you've never loved a man this way  
That it was heaven you were here to stay_

And now you're just another fallen angel  
And I hope that the fall didn't do you any harm  
And now you're just another fallen angel  
Falling into somebody else's arms

I took one look and I was paralyzed and was in paradise  
I must admit that when I first laid eyes, you had me hypnotized  
You said I'm sorry but I don't say much  
And I'm in heaven when I feel your touch

Christine turned in his arms to face him. She gently touched the mask.

"Angel, because of you, I am stronger. I know I am not supposed to do this, but I need to say that I love you."

Erik smiled as grasped her hand, uncomfortable at how close it was to his face, and responded, "There is nothing wrong with loving an angel. I love you, too, Christine Daae. Sing only for me."

Her eyes beamed at him, "I give you my soul each time I sing."

"Your soul, my child, is a gift beyond any emperor's gold or treasures. I value it and I treasure its keeper."

She stood on her tiptoes as she attempted to kiss him when Erik woke up.

As Erik tried to grasp the dream's meaning, Christine was dreaming herself.

Christine was dressed in a white shoulder cut-off full-length dress of silk that flowed to accentuate her small but pretty curves. Her blonde hair trailed down in golden tendrils on her face and back. Her blue eyes were wide and striking.

"Erik?"

She went from room to room in a strange house and found him sitting at the organ, composing music.

He turned around and beckoned her near.

He stood up in his red long-sleeved shirt and black pants. His muscular form flexed as he moved across the floor to stand before her.

"Christine, I know where you have been. I am not pleased. You promised me that you would sing only for me, and yet, your eyes wandered to the Viscount today. I will not tolerate insolence. If you do not want to sing, then do not come to me. I will _not _be used. Too much of my life has been spent in agony; I refuse to be hurt by the woman I love. You used to love me before you realized I was a hideous freak."

"Erik, I used to love you before I found out you deceived me. I sing for you, Maestro. Raoul broke my heart. I do not love him…"

Erik flung himself to the organ as he covered his ears and screamed, "Lies, lies, LIES! All that you say are lies! You detest me because I deceived you to be close to you…to give you the chance to know the man I am before you knew the monster that I look like. Yet, every time I reach for you, or try to correct you with my hands, you shy away from me like I am a beast!"

"Erik, when I removed your mask, you…"

Suddenly a gunshot went off as Christine violently woke up. She immediately wished to seek out the man she simply knew as Erik to see if he was okay. It was stupid; it was only a dream, but she wanted to see him again.

As the two dealt with the subconscious feelings felt in their dreams, Carlotta and Piangi were making out as they sped to the bedroom. As Piangi went to the restroom, Carlotta pulled back the covers and screeched in terror and disgust.

In the bed were twenty dead rats and there was one rat that had a note tied around its neck. Messy red handwriting read:

_Here are rats for the woman who looks like one. If you ever accuse someone unjustly, more disasters will occur for you._

_O.G._

**A/N: Ha! Erik took vengeance for Christine! Isn't that sweet? I pray you all loved this chapter. I had fun with it. How do you like the surprise? I bet that you thought Erik was the one who sent the letter to Madame Giry. Nadir was the one who did. I bid you all adieu until the next chapter. Please review! (I hope Erik is not too soft)**

© Copyright 2005


	7. Chapter 7 Midnight Music Mystery Begins

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Wow, thanks so much for all your reviews! I enjoyed reading them. I am glad you all are enjoying it. In this chapter, Christine and Erik unwittingly make a connection…**

**_Chapter Seven- Midnight Music Mystery Begins_**

Erik was leisurely lying on his new couch in his home beneath the Opera de Rennes reading over his notes on Luciana's case. Frustrated, he could not make any connection.

Erik had resumed his talent of architecture to make money, but found that it was rather difficult to operate beneath a building. He needed to conjure up another way to make more money.

Unfortunately, Nadir always seemed to meddle in his affairs. He burst in the home, sending Erik to fly out of his reverie.

"Erik, I think I know how we could make more money for the operation. Since MI-6 has suspended your pay, we need at least 5,000 to operate the surveillance alone. I believe I have found the answer."

Erik, not amused by the meddling Iranian, sat up on the couch.

"Nadir, I could sell some of my music if there is drastic need, but pray tell, what is your fabulous idea?"

"I was searching through the Classifieds in the newspapers…Erik, please don't guffaw at this…"

Erik barely kept his laughter in at the absurdity of achieving a mediocre job from the newspaper, but he continued to listen to the ludicrous idea.

"There is a man, Charles Daae, who has sent an advertisement for a private detective who has a police or military background. Perhaps, I can help the man. He has offered to pay 4,000 alone for one job."

Erik suddenly did not feel the idea was ludicrous anymore. He remembered Christine Daae's sweet face. Maybe they were not related, but if they were, Erik wanted to help her.

He did not know why, but they had a bond. The world had been cruel to them, and Erik definitely knew cruelty.

"Where does he live, Nadir?"

"It says here that he lives at 1456 Collier Street. Erik, I can do this. You said it was very vital that you were not to be seen by others."

"Nadir, if the man needs a detective, I can help him. I have that mask, you know. The one that makes me look normal."

"You said it was uncomfortable and hurts your deformity…"

"If it helps with our cause, then I do not mind a little discomfort. Give me the number and I will call."

Erik arranged a meeting at the house on Collier Street at 9:00 p.m. that night. Nadir left around dinnertime to check up on the surveillance team and give them more instruction.

Erik decided to dress down for the meeting. He chose black corduroy pants and a dark long-sleeve navy shirt. It took him fifteen minutes to adjust the mask to make him look like he was normal.

The mask already had begun to irritate Erik when he arrived at the house. The house looked like it belonged to a below middle-class family. His normally steel nerves were all over the place. He worried about this… Was he making a mistake?

The door opened and a man stepped out. He appeared to be in his early fifties and had striking features. His forehead was high and creased with intelligence and hard times and his hands were long and slender like a musician's hands. His hair was full and displayed gray streaks in the black. His blue eyes were kind and gentle, and this left Erik no doubt that Christine was his daughter. His nose was prominent on his face, and Erik could not help but envy him. 'At least this man _has _a nose.'

Charles was also struck with the man's appearance. The man was tall with a fit body, and his complexion was pale. Charles noted his hands were also like a musician. Although the man indeed was muscular, he was very thin from not eating much. Charles noted that the man seemed to be in perfect health…a strange paradox.

He saw the handsome features, a strong jaw line, a prominent nose, thick golden hair, golden orbs that could pierce you into your soul.

Charles asked, "What is your name, good Monsiuer?"

Erik had debated whether to use his surname or not. He decided to use his alias.

"My name is William Pratt."

**(A/N: Tee hee…I am using Charles Dance features with the mask, and Leroux's deformity. Read author's note at bottom about Erik's alias.)**

The two shook hands and Charles invited Erik inside the home. Erik noted the mundane décor of the home, simple and cheap. It seemed to him that the Daae family had to struggle throughout their life. This was just another suffering that bonded Erik with Christine.

The Daae family must be religious as Erik noticed the crosses on the wall, portraits of Christ on the cross, and many other God-themed items.

They sat down in the small library, bringing Erik to the conclusion that the Daae family valued knowledge and education. Many books caught his eye such as _Hamlet, Macbeth, Twelfth Night, Dracula, Vanity Fair, Woman in White, Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, _and _King Lear._

Erik picked up a book from the coffee table: _The Idiot_ by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

Eyeing both Charles and the book, he inquired, "Do you like this book?"

Charles smiled a nice smile. 'So that is where Christine gets it.'

"Absolutely, I find that literature is a godsend to escape the problems of the everyday world. I find it funny how man reads about the characters' struggle through pain and redemption to solve dilemmas, as man tries to escape their own problems. That book is my favorite."

Erik genuinely liked the man. "Yes, I do like this book as well, Mr. Daae."

"Please, Monsieur Pratt, call me Charles."

"As you wish, Charles."

Charles clapped his hands together and said, "I suppose that we should get down to business. I need your expertise, Monsieur Pratt."

Erik smiled and responded, "Indeed, I shall help you, but I need to know what kind of case this is."

Charles paled slightly as he began his story, "Monsieur Pratt, I need for you to protect my daughter, Christine. She is twenty and naive. I have been receiving death threats from someone. The police are working on whom it is, but as I sit here and read your extensive resume, I realize that the villains could target my sweet angel. I do not want anything to befall her. Your resume shows me you are more qualified than the police force to protect her. Can you be her bodyguard?"

Erik was surprised and anxious by the story. Could he be a bodyguard for the sweet Christine after what happened to Luciana? He was about to decline when he saw the urgency and anticipation in Charles's face, Erik knew he had to do it.

"I accept your offer."

"I can pay you more money…"

"Do not worry. Just stick with the original offer."

Charles was so relieved, albeit he hated that he had to lie to this good young man. He was getting death threats, yes, but he was the cause of getting them. He could not let them get to his daughter. Everything he had done was for her benefit.

Just as they were about to discuss the details of Erik's assignment, Christine walked in the door.

"Dad, I really need to talk to y…"

Her sentence hung in the air as she walked in the room and observed the two. Erik was worried she would blow his cover, but she glanced at him as she seated her self next to her father. Erik could truly see the resemblance between the two.

She was staring at him with those beautiful eyes with questions. Charles luckily explained the situation to her.

"Christine, I know I have been acting strange lately. I have been getting death threats from someone…" Christine gasped and grasped his hand as he continued, "I thought I could be okay, but then they started to threaten to harm you. I could not allow that. I needed to do something. The police are working to uncover who is sending the threats, but I wanted to do something more to protect you."

She nodded and looked at Erik wondering what he had to do with the whole situation.

Charles motioned to Erik as he looked at Christine, "I hired this man to be your bodyguard and protect you until the culprits are caught."

Erik added, "Do not worry, Ms. Daae, I will be discreet. You will have a normal day. I will not be hanging around you all day, harassing you. Just know I will be in the background…"

She smiled that beautiful smile and turned to her father, "This is so surreal, but Dad, I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better."

Charles politely handed Erik his agendas and then he left the room.

Christine stood and outstretched her hand, "Hello, my name is Christine Daae. What is your name?"

Erik smirked and replied with false innocence, "My name is William Pratt, Christine?"

Christine immediately recognized that voice. He winked at her as he said his name. She knew then it was Erik Desslar! She felt so excited and she did not know why. Wait until Meg hears about this…but then she realized she could not tell Meg.

Christine leaned close to him, barely breathing because she was intoxicated by his sandalwood and musty scent.

"Hello, Monsieur Desslar, I did not know that you were a private detective. Where is your mask? You are h-handsome. Why do you need to wear one?"

Erik smiled a dazzling smile despite the unintentional painful statements and whispered back, "Remember, Christine, that I told you I am a man of many talents. You must call me William Pratt in front of everyone else. If we are alone, I will allow you to call me Erik, my real name. It is important that I remain anonymous…for my safety and your own. Do not worry about the mask; it helps conceal my identity."

She smiled, "Okay, Erik, I definitely feel safe with you as my guardian."

Neither spoke of their dreams, both were embarrassed and shy around each other like adolescents.

Charles came in and said, "All is well, it seems. I hope you two will get along."

Christine and Erik pulled away. Christine was blushing furiously, tempting Erik to laugh.

"Yes, Dad, we will get along perfectly."

Charles graciously smiled and said, "Monsieur William, we would like for you to stay for dinner. Will you stay?"

Christine put in, "Yes, Monsieur _William_, stay for dinner."

She winked at him and Erik swallowed in discomfort, "Okay, I will stay."

Nadir sat drinking tea at Madame Giry's house. Madame Giry and Nadir Khan had spent a quiet afternoon talking about Michael and Reza. Michael had been her husband as Reza was Nadir's deceased son.

Meg walked into the room and stopped immediately at the sight of the strange Iranian man in the living room.

Both stood up as she hesitantly entered.

"Megan, this is my friend I spoke to you about. His name is Nadir Khan. He was a friend of your father mine. You were too young to remember him."

Nadir bowed to the astounded nineteen-year-old. She curtsied to him.

"Hello, little Meg, I suppose you are not so little. I am here for business and shall be staying here for a while. I hope my presence does not perturb you."

Meg, who was known for talking, suddenly found herself speechless. The man's accent was Arabic. She suddenly wanted to know everything about this stranger and his friendship with her parents.

"No, Monsieur Khan, you do not bother me at all."

They all sat down and the two adults explained their past to Meg, but they left Erik's part out of the story.

Meg absorbed all of this, so she could repeat everything to Christine late that night. Christine was supposed to stay the night, so they could practice the new ballet choreography.

Erik enjoyed eating dinner with the Daae family, but the damn mask felt like it was eating his face alive. Despite the discomfort, Erik found Christine's personality to soothe his agitation.

Once dinner was over, Christine got ready to go to Megan Giry's house for the night. All of the connections were spinning in Erik's head. True, he was glad that he could meet with his long-time friend, but she was going to kill him for intentionally becoming Christine's protector. She would not approve.

As Christine got ready, Erik and Charles stood in the foyer, waiting.

Charles turned to Erik, "Why did you decide to help someone like me? From your resume, you have a clean criminal background, many talents, and astounding employers."

Erik was surprised by his words, "Charles, I am an officer of the law. I work to put away criminals. My father was murdered, so I suppose you can say I have a personal vendetta. It is my responsibility to give a victim's family peace. Helping those in need helps me personally."

Charles nodded in relief at his answer.

"Monsieur Pratt, all Christine has is me. I trust you, and I do not even know why. I need to tell you something."

Erik did not like where this was going.

"I have cancer, William. Promise me that if I die, you will take care of my daughter. Make sure her husband is good for her and treats her right, since I will not be around long."

For Erik, it felt like the floor had disappeared from under him and he was free-falling into an abyss.

Thinking deeply, Erik opened his stony heart to the poor man. "Yes, Charles. I promise I will not hurt Christine, nor will I let anyone else."

Charles face became uplifted and tears ran down his face. His emotions got the better of him and he hugged Erik.

Erik's whole body went stiff at the human contact, but he relented at the sight of this broken man.

They separated as quickly as they hugged. Christine, oblivious to the 'elephant in the room' pranced happily down the stairs.

"Okay, I am ready. Come on, Monsieur Pratt. I know that going to a girls' night is not what you would want…"

Erik lifted his hand to silence her. "I do not care. It is truly fine."

Christine walked out to Erik's car and Erik followed her, casting one last glance at Charles Daae.

_If only it were true that everything was fine._

**A/N: On an interesting note, Erik's alias has special meaning- William means resolute protector and Pratt means proud, arrogant, cunning. So, now you know part of the mystery. Why Charles was acting strange…Please review. They make my day. I love you all!**

© Copyright 2005


	8. Chapter 8 A Risky Rendezvous

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Wow, thanks so much for all your reviews! Sorry for the wait in an update…I knew what the whole story would be about, but formulating the chapters to fit the plot all the while trying to make it where I like it was very difficult. The next three chapters _will _be action packed. I hope that this SUPER LONG chapter will make amends. R&R please.**

_**WARNING: SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTER IN THIS CHAPTER.**_

_**Chapter Eight- A Risky Rendezvous**_

Erik silently drove to Madame Giry's home as Christine 'informed' him the directions. Of course, he knew where Antoinette lived; she had lived in the same house for nearly a decade.

Erik genuinely listened to Christine excitedly ramble about her friend, Meg. What she did not know was that Meg was like Erik's little sister. Small world, indeed…When Erik pulled his newly bought black Porche in the Giry's driveway, Christine bolted out of the car with her bag.

Years of isolation and loneliness had affected Erik but not in the way that could help him when Christine and Meg started to laugh, speak, squeal all at once, as they met at the door.

Meg finally took notice of the masked man standing in the threshold ten minutes later. She made her 'I know you' look as Erik shot her a glare that kept her from speaking his name. Meg stared quizzically at Erik while Christine introduced him as 'William Pratt.'

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Monsieur Pratt."

It was definitely awkward for Meg and Erik to shake hands and to pretend that they had never met before, but Erik used his mastery in ventriloquism to speak to Meg.

"Thank-you, Megan. Do not tell her about me; I will explain everything to you later. Did you ever tell her about me?"

She shook her head; Christine gazed at them as if they were aliens. She opened her mouth to speak, but Nadir and Antoinette interrupted by entering the room. Meg's mother glanced suspiciously from Erik to Christine then back to Erik.

Christine speedily introduced 'William Pratt' to them before she and Meg scampered away.

"Okay, you two follow me." Nadir briefly shot a puzzled countenance at Erik while they trailed Antoinette to the parlor room to sit down and have tea. Once all of them sat down with a cup of hot tea, the threesome sat in silence, waiting for someone to speak first.

Erik decided to start and pulled out two envelopes to hand one to each Nadir and Madame Giry.

"Antoinette, it is good to see you again. You and Meg look well. Now, I need you to give this envelope to Andre and Firmin. It is important…Nadir, this envelope is copies of all Buquet's paperwork and files. Use it as a guide. Has our surveillance turned up anything?"

He shook his head, "No, _William _er…Erik!"

Erik rolled his eyes at the daroga's ill attempt at humor, so Nadir continued, "Buquet seems to run his mouth a lot about nothing and there are no hits on his credit cards or bank accounts. However, we have seen him using his computer laptop on numerous occasions. Perhaps his email would provide us with the information we need."

"Well, get on it, Nadir. Send me a full report." Antoinette interrupted him, "Erik, what are your intentions with Ms. Daae? What is your plan with her?"

Erik sighed with slight agitation. The truth was that he really did not know what his intentions were, but he spoke, "Charles Daae hired me to be his daughter's bodyguard until the one or ones behind his death threats is caught. His money will pay for our operation. I swear I will keep her safe, and I will not let her fall victim to my darkness. I _always _keep my word."

This only partially relieved Madame Giry. They discussed the plan in further detail as Christine and Meg watched chick flicks and ate junk food. Nadir told the two of his part in the plans while Erik reviewed his handiwork at the Opera de Rennes.

He and Nadir had parted ways and used the secret tunnels/passageways Erik previously built to spark small "hauntings." The ballet 'rats' were the easiest targets to scare. All Erik had to do to scare them were use his ventriloquism to bounce his maniacal laugh around the theater, drop a few backdrops, cut down some sandbags, and cast his shadow to frighten some skittish girls.

Although the managers, Andre and Firmin proved to be smarter than they appeared since they believed it all to be nonsense despite the majority believing the Opera Ghost was real.

Once the girls were settled, the three moved to the living room to be more comfortable even with the popcorn and soda everywhere. Nadir excused himself to speak with Erik's men and inform them of the new plans.

As soon as he was out of sight, Madame Giry's countenance darkened.

"Erik, you have spent years away from people and now you are a young woman's bodyguard. Charles and I became friends after his wife Emma past away, and I ended up like a foster parent to Christine. She and Meg are best friends and it is like I have two daughters."

"I remember you speaking her name once or twice, but other than that, I never met her until a few days ago."

Madame Giry's pale face and dark eyes glowered and Erik immediately knew he now was in deep trouble. He awaited her reprimands that she used on the ballet rats, but to his surprise, it never came.

His masked face glanced at hers. She stood, her black dress billowing around her, and Erik noticed her gaunt form.

"I am going to Charles, Erik Desslar, and I will convince him to hire someone else…maybe Nadir…I do not feel right about letting Christine around you. Your personality and isolation will not help her…"

Erik Desslar, master of magic, ventriloquism, music, architecture, and knowledge could only take so much. Madame Giry continued to list all his flaws for five minutes when Erik exploded himself.

"Charles Daae is dying of cancer!"

She abruptly stopped, her mouth hung open slightly, as she struggled to grasp the magnitude of what he just said. Sitting down hurriedly, her brows furrowed when she questioned Erik, "Does Christine know?"

Erik shook his head, "I promised I would keep his secret. He does not want to worry her in his last days…I assume that is why he didn't tell you. I cannot leave Christine alone. I swore to Charles I would watch after her when he died. I always keep my word."

Antoinette's eyes became misty as she finally realized she would lose another loved one and it would kill his daughter. She excused herself to her room.

Erik suddenly became painfully aware that his 'normal' mask had caused his deformed face to swell up. He decided to take a stroll out on her rural property. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the cool night air. The full moon's illumination covered the earth, letting everyone see all in the dark.

When he was far enough away, Erik flung off his facial mask and breathed in the earthy smell. At night, he felt most normal because he was able to venture out in the world and not hide. There was a pond to the east of where he stood, and Erik caught a glimpse of his deformed face in the water's reflection.

Erik recoiled back in disgust at his own face and attempted to forget he would never be normal. He needed something to soothe the raging emotions in him…music…

He opened his mouth and began to sing the Arabic song he had sung at Nadir Khan's wedding.

**(A/N: Translation on the side. This is a real song sung in the Middle East. I think it personifies Erik perfectly.)**

Ana fi intizarak

_I'm waiting for you._

Khalat nari fi dolouice

_I kept my fire inside my ribs._

Wi hattaat edee 'alla haddee wi 'adaat

_And I put my hand on my cheek_

Bil saniah ghabak wella gait

_And counted by seconds your absence and you never came._

Ya reit - Ya reitnee omree ma habeit

_I wish - I wish I never fell in love._

Aizah 'araf la tikoun

_I need to know if you are upset_

Ghadbaan ow shahghil albak insaam

_Or if somebody else occupies your heart_

Hal liktnee min yah'see aoul

_From my hopelessness, you make me say._

Il ghbah teegheeb allatoul

_The absence will continue forever_

Wi a fakar eih illee ganaytoh

_And I ask myself what did I gain_

Min zambee ghayrak mah la eit

_From my mistake. Only you are my problem_

Ya reit - Yareitnee omree ma habeit.

_I wish - I wish I never fell in love._

At 'alim alla gambre il nar

_I anguish on the hot part of the fire._

Wi att sharad wayak il afkar

_My brain is absent from concentration_

Il nismah ah sibha khotak

_With each breath I count your steps_

Wil hamsa ah sibha khotak

_With each little letter I count your conversations with me_

Alla kida ahshahat weam seit

_I am in this mood morning and night._

Wisha founee wi allou it ganait

_And they saw me and they said I have become insane._

Ya reit - Yareitnee omree ma habeit

_I wish - I wish I never fell in love._

Tiou adnee bisneen wi ayam

_You promised me by years and days_

Wit geenee bi haggag wi kalaam

_And you come to me with excuses and garbage words_

Dah kalaam

_Those words!_

Wit salim wi mor

_(Say something different only nicer)_

Ou tikulif wit ooul naseen

_You come and shake my hand and leave quickly_

_Or you don't come and just say "I forgot."_

Erik finished the song as he heard a voice, "Well, I remember that song as if it were yesterday. You shocked all our guests."

Nadir waited behind Erik, giving him time to put the facial mask back on his face. Erik turned around and merely sighed. Too much emotion swirled in his heart and kept him from speaking.

Nadir disrupted his thoughts as he said, "She is not Lily, Erik. Christine Daae is not your first love come back to haunt you."

Erik viciously retorted, "I am well aware of that Khan! I do not plan to fall in love with Ms. Daae. My plan is to seek revenge on Buquet and leave with a _finished_ Don Juan."

Erik then stormed away and left Nadir standing near the pond. Nadir thought to himself, "Poor Erik, he does not realize he has developed feelings for the girl. His heart will be broken before we are through here."

Christine waited in Meg's room, as Meg got ready in her pajamas. They opened the window to cool the room down, and Christine fix her eyes on the moon. Suddenly she heard the most beautifully haunting voice coming from the pond. Straining her neck, she saw Erik standing with his back to her.

Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she listened to the sorrow and pain in his voice. Then, he stopped as the dark-skinned man approached. Christine watched with fascination as they exchanged words and Erik stormed away.

Christine jumped away from the window, telling Meg she would be back, and ran downstairs to meet Erik in the living room. Erik's black form personified frustration as he slammed the door and stopped in mid-stride as his magnificent eyes caught hers. She suddenly felt stupid for coming; she was gawking at him.

Erik walked in to find Christine staring at him. His heart stopped at the thought that she had seen his face, but she suddenly found she knew words.

"Erik, I h-heard you singing outside. That was so beautiful…Can you teach me how to sing like that? Gosh, I sound so selfish…"

Erik's heart decided to work and he sighed with immense relief. He walked forward and stood a few feet away. He thought they looked peculiar standing near each other. Erik tried not to notice her beautiful figure the white gown showed. Her golden curls cascaded down her back and her blue eyes looking at him inquisitively.

He smiled his small smile and responded, "Of course, I will teach you how to sing, but only on a few restrictions."

Her face brightened and it took Erik to swallow hard to contain his outburst at her beauty.

"I will agree to anything!"

"Alright, the rules are: you are to sing only for me, you are to be dedicated and on time always, you are to listen to everything I say, you must _NEVER _remove my mask, and you must trust me."

She nodded enthusiastically.

Erik replied, "Good, we start tomorrow at 7:00 p.m. at your music room."

She squealed and thanked him as she grabbed him.

Erik was shocked as her arms enveloped him. She was so _warm_ and he relished in human contact. Christine noticed how tense his body became when she hugged him, but she could not contain herself.

She let go and hurried upstairs to Meg's room while Erik sat down and wrote music for Don Juan, suddenly inspired.

The next day Erik used his secret tunnels to go to the room to watch the managers' reaction to his demands. Nadir had put the envelope on the desk without the knowledge and now Andre was reading it aloud to Firmin.

_Dear Monsieurs Andre and Firmin,_

_You are the new beneficiaries_ _of my theater, and so I will give you a list of my demands. First of all, you are to make Christine Daae the lead role in the upcoming performance of Carmen. You are to get rid of Carlotta and her unhealthy fat husband Piangi. You are to do a background search of Joseph Buquet and fire him. Also, give Madame Giry an envelope with 20,000 francs as my salary each month. If you do not listen to my demands, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur._

_Signed_

_O.G._

The two blundering managers argued whether to do as the note said, but in the end, they burned it as Andre said, "We will not bow to this lunatic."

Erik mumbled to himself, "Fools, be prepared for what I do now." With a twirl of his cape, Erik was gone.

Christine stood in her music room waiting for Erik to start their lesson. Her father had left to go on one of his unspecified walk. Meg emailed her later that day on Christine's day off to tell her that the chandelier had fallen to Carlotta's feet. She had been cut several times from glass.

The managers called her later to tell her that she got the lead role since Carlotta would be in recovery. Christine was speechless. Meg later told Christine that the police think the chandelier was deliberately cut.

Erik then came in with a bag filled with music. He pulled out some and set it aside.

Erik then sat at the grand piano, one possession that Christine and her father prized, and handed her the main aria in _Carmen_ and began their lesson after her warm-ups. She started to struggle, so Erik changed keys to _A_ minor. From then on, Christine excelled in it, except for a relatively challenging part.

"No, Christine, you are struggling because you are not breathing right. Come here."

They both stood up and Erik walked closer to her. "Give me your hands."

Erik took her hands and placed one on each side of his ribs, where his lungs were. If it was one thing Erik was passionate about, it was music. He began to sing the difficult part, as he lifted his diaphragm as well as her hands. He noticed her flushed face, but continued in their lesson.

Christine was uncomfortable touching Erik; she wanted to touch him, but not like this. She felt how thin he was and it worried her, but he got her voice up to par in less than two hours. She felt his diaphragm rise and fall.

She did not understand why but she felt sad when she had to let go of his sides.

"Now you try it from measure 50."

Christine watched Erik play as she sang with all her heart. He took no notice; he was playing with his heart. She wanted to see his face, but she remembered her promise. He had mentioned his manuscript _Don_ _Juan_, but she would not like it because it encompassed the music of hell and pain.

Christine then knew how important it was to him.

Erik interrupted her thoughts as he rose.

"Christine, stand in front of me, please."

Christine immediately obeyed and she could have melted in his arms when he pulled her back to him. She felt his body pressed against hers; his hands came to her diaphragm.

His hot breath made her want to collapse. The warm electricity that shot through her scared her. What were these feelings?

"Breathe in, Christine."

When she inhaled shakily, heart racing, his hands pushed up her sides to show how her diaphragm should lift and fall.

"Sing with me, Christine. Sing the part with me."

Christine could have died when they sang the part together, their voices and bodies blended together. She was left breathless at the end and she saw Erik was as well.

During the month, they had a weekly lesson. Christine sang excellently at her debut; she sang for Erik. Their lessons were not like their first one. Erik kept his distance while Christine got better and better.

After a draining lesson later in the month, Erik stated breathless, "Very good, we will continue on tomorrow. Now, let us take a break. How would you like to take a walk with me in the park?"

"It's night, Erik. Are you sure it's okay?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I trust you, Erik. I trust you with all my life. You make me feel safe."

Erik and Christine ate a small dinner at her house before leaving. As they walked on the pathways in the park, Erik listened to her life's story of struggle. He even shared an edited version of his life's struggles. They bonded, but Christine became cold.

"Okay, my child, I will go to the car and get your coat. Stay here. I will be back shortly."

While Christine waited for Erik, two men grabbed her as one pressed a knife to her throat, "Scream and we will kill you."

She struggled to break free, but they held her back as they dragged her to the woods. Christine managed to let out a small scream, but the man pressed the knife back on her throat again.

"Do that again, and I will slit your throat."

Then they started to undo her pants and Christine panicked, screaming for help inside her head.

Erik had reached his car when a woman ran to him. His defense went up, but she grabbed his arm. Something was wrong. His whole body tensed up as she spoke, "Sir, my name is Stacia Manuve. Two men snatched the woman you were walking. Hurry!"

Erik's mind turned black as he rushed to the sight where he left her. He heard the men and her scream. His mind shut down as he rushed over.

The two men were undoing her pants, and one had a knife to her throat. Christine thought she saw a shadow and suddenly the man who held the knife to her throat slumped to the ground.

Christine saw Erik with a lasso thing, and she turned her head and saw the man with a broken neck. Her Erik had _killed_ a man!

The man stopped undoing her pants and started to fight Erik. Christine watched in horror as Erik turned into a black ball of fury. He frightened her with his capability of absolute fury. She scrambled to her feet and tried to help Erik.

As Erik punched the man, his black mask and golden eyes looked at her. He yelled, "Run to my car and lock the doors!"

Christine remembered her other promise to do whatever Erik said, and she ran to Erik's car and locked herself inside it. Moments later, a tousled clothed Erik ran to the car and drove her home.

While Christine took her shower, she realized that Buquet's story was partially true. Erik must have helped a woman when that man tried to rape her, too, and he had killed the man. What did he do to the other man?

Charles left a message stating he would not be home that night.

Once Erik finished the fire, Christine sat listless on the couch after her shower. She tossed the clothes she was wearing into the fire, watching them burn. Suddenly she stood and faced Erik.

His mask made him look uncomfortable, and Christine leaned forward to kiss him, but Erik violently pulled away.

Christine's heart broke as Erik struggled to keep control. He could not fall in love with her. He promised her father and Madame Giry. He could not let Christine suffer because she did not know what lay beyond his mask.

Little did Erik know was that Raoul de Chagny was arriving home to Rennes early on a plane.

**A/N: Well, what do you all think? I hope I am not rushing things…Christine doesn't love Erik…she cares for him. She is confused and will be even more so when Raoul enters next chapter. PLEASE review!**

© Copyright 2005


	9. Chapter 9 Pt 1 Music, Mystery, and Murde

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued support. I appreciate every single reader. I am sorry for REALLY LONG wait between updates, but there is a lot of turmoil going on in my life. I WILL NOT ABANDON THIS STORY. Rest assured. One good thing is that the chapters will be extra long for your patience with me. See good things do come from me. I just pray that you all continue to read and enjoy and cough review.**

**RainsP.**

**P.S. For all Raoul-lovers, he enters the picture in THIS chapter. I hope I did his character justice.**

**P.S.S. This chapter is really long, so I broke it down into two parts.**

**_Chapter Nine- Music, Mystery, and Murder Part One_**

Raoul de Chagny stepped off the airplane, and took a deep breath of his homeland's freshly cold air. How he had missed Rennes, France! It was in the early hours, with the sun not yet seen on the horizon, when his plane landed. The Navy had extended him a six-month leave, something Raoul was definitely grateful.

Scanning through the huge mass of people, he searched for his older brother who usually stood a foot taller than most in the crowd. The two brothers were the perfect epitome of 'blood brothers.' Most people, however, would find that ironic since bother brothers neither looked nor acted alike.

Comte Philippe de Chagny was nearing his mid thirties, stood at six foot five, had thick black hair with some wisps of gray, and had dark jade green eyes while his younger brother Viscount Raoul de Chagny neared twenty-two, stood at five-foot seven, had thick blonde hair, and had ocean blue eyes.

The Comte was the spitting image of their father, Richard de Chagny IV, and had acquired his stern paternal features and always patient and business smart personality. Nothing seemed to perturb the Comte, a vital asset to one who owns an entire corporation.

Raoul took after their mother, Andrea de Chagny, with his soft features, noble heart, and brave spirit. When their father passed away, Philippe had just turned eighteen and he took on the responsibilities of the family affairs while helping his mother raise Raoul, who was too young to remember much about his father.

It was true that the women of the Chagny family spoiled Raoul, but he never took it to heart. He idolized his older brother, whose pure and noble heart he achieved in his later years. Viewing his elder brother like a father figure, Raoul tried to emulate his every move, especially after their mother's sudden death six years later.

The brothers briefly hugged and headed out. Once in the limousine, Raoul told his brother about everything he did while in the Navy.

"How is the world of corporate finance, Philippe?" Raoul asked with humor in his voice.

A groan of frustration erupted from the Comte as he responded, "Ah, the business is doing quite fine, but it is our investment in the opera house that has proved to be a problem."

"I had read about the chandelier incident in the newspaper…Luckily no one was hurt. The newspaper went on to say Carlotta's voice went berserk and nearly busted everyone's eardrums. I heard that at least five hundred people wanted refunds. There were also reports of the theater being 'haunted.'"

"Yes, there are reports of an 'Opera Ghost' who claims to own the theater and creates catastrophes when things do not go his way. He sends threatening notes to the new managers, Andre and Firmin. As long as they follow the 'Ghost's' every whim, there is peace."

"Have you alerted the authorities?"

"Yes, after the chandelier tragedy, the police came, but they found nothing. What is odd is what happened at the opera house this morning."

"I heard nothing about it."

"An American senator was found dead in a costume trunk backstage. Authorities believe it was pre-meditated homicide. No one knows how or why he got there. Many of the ballet girls believe the Opera Ghost killed him. Two F.B.I. agents from the American Embassy are now investigating the death of the American politician. It is already a high profile case, but in any matter, Rennes Opera House certainly is not suffering profit loss. With the odd happenings and Christine Daae's newfound success, profit margins will continue to skyrocket. Yes, people always love drama."

At the mention of Christine's name, Raoul was plunged into wonderful memories of their time together. He regretted breaking her heart, but he had to leave France. After his mother died, he felt smothered and wanted to get away.

The Navy had offered him the perfect escape, and he had to leave immediately. During his training and service, he kept all of Christine's letters and poems. They were his prized possessions. He always thought about the girl he had left behind two years ago. Everyday he had missed her, and hoped that she was not with someone else.

Their time apart, he had realized he loved her and wanted to start over with her again.

As the limo approached the Opera House, the young, handsome, and rich Viscount could only hope to be with Christine Daae. He had no idea that a masked man would disrupt his plan.

Christine sat backstage contemplating all the events that happened last night. She had been devastated when Erik pulled away from her kiss, and she did not understand why.

Rehearsal passed by quickly, but Christine found herself just going through the motions, and not truly feeling anything she felt when she was around the music. Last night, she fell asleep on the couch, and awoke from a nightmare.

Her father was somewhere, so she tried to find Erik who appeared to have left a long time ago by the remnants of a fire dying down into grayish cinders. Walking around her house and search each room proved to be futile. Erik was nowhere in the little residence.

The winter air had passed through the small home, and Christine found herself freezing. Quickly running back to the couch, she dove back into the blankets that were still warm after Erik put them on her previously that night. She waited for any sign of Erik, too anxious to go back to sleep.

Around two-thirty a.m., she heard someone quietly creep into the room.

"Erik, is that you?"

There appeared to be a shadowy form that moved closer, and the most hauntingly, melodic voice answered, so Christine knew it was her mysterious voice teacher and guardian.

"Who else would it be? Did I disturb you?"

"No, where have you been?"

It was not as if Christine expected him to answer; Erik was always so secretive. She desperately wanted to know more about her enigmatic voice teacher, but he always distanced himself from her. Erik's answer caught her off-guard.

"Madame Giry requested my presence immediately. She and Nadir could not find Megan."

Christine shot up and grabbed Erik's arms, noticing how tense he then became.

"Is Meg okay? Did you find her? I should call her cell."

"Enough!"

The simple command, said in an authoritative tone, ceased Christine's movements. His voice was much softer as he spoke again.

"Megan was fine. I found her walking home."

Sensing the story was going to be long, Christine dragged Erik by his unwilling arms to the couch, forcing him to sit down while she turned on the lights. His clothes were even more disheveled as was his hair, which was odd because Erik always kept his appearance immaculate.

The only thing that was firmly in place was that black mask. Once she settled in the layers of blankets, Christine grabbed Erik's hand.

"You must tell me everything, Erik."

His gorgeous golden eyes flickered with uneasiness. Shifting uncomfortably from her stare, he finally spoke.

"Christine, I do not know if I can betray Megan's confidence. I gave her my word I would not tell another soul what happened."

"Please, Erik, I must know what happened. I am her best friend. I have to know. Do not think of me as _just_ your student; I am your friend, too."

For Erik, the comment stirred something deep within his heart. Christine's desperate look of worry caused his defenses to crumble, so he relented.

"Megan told me that she received a text message, presumably from you, to meet her at the park. She waited at the park's entrance when someone grabbed her from behind and blindfolded her. She heard more than one voice as she was forced into a car. They drove her for a long time, likely two hours, before they shoved her out the car. There, they threw eggs at her."

Erik paused as Christine's eyes filled with tears, yet he had to finish the story.

"I found her walking home, covered in egg yolk. She claims that she heard female voices, sounding like Danita and Carlotta. On any note, they left her at an abandoned warehouse forty minutes from the theater. She was a victim to a cruel prank. I retrieved some clothes and returned her home. I vouched for her whereabouts before returning here."

Christine wished to call Meg, but Erik stopped her from doing so. She fell asleep instead, and when she awoke the next morning, her voice teacher was already gone.

Christine had comforted Meg at ballet rehearsal that morning; nothing was said by any of the parties. Christine loved to sing, but she wanted to go home and have Erik cheer her up.

It was ironic that Erik, who was dark, mysterious, and pessimistic, could cheer her up. She was thankful when rehearsal ended as she stood waiting for Erik to pick her up in the lobby, but he was late. This worried her because Erik was never late.

Of course, with her luck, Christine was flabbergasted when Phillipe walked in with her first love: Raoul de Chagny.

After Erik dropped made sure Christine made it to rehearsal safely, he drove back to her home in order to meet with Charles Daae. While Erik drove, he answered his cell when he realized Nadir was calling.

"Yes, what is it, Khan?"

"Erik, we have a problem."

"What has happened now?"

"An American senator was found murdered and stuffed into a costume trunk at the opera house. We were forced to call off surveillance because French law enforcement was everywhere. The Americans were livid, and they have sent an F.B.I. agent to investigate."

Nadir closed his eyes wearily as he heard Erik sigh angrily.

"Well, Nadir, do you think Joseph had anything to do with this crime?"

"Our men have been tailing Buquet for the past week, but we have come up with nothing of importance."

"I am sensing that you're telling me there's a slight possibility that he could have killed the senator."

"Yes."

"What can you tell me about this FBI agent?"

"Ah, yes, there is one FBI agent named Stacia Manuve. I have sent all information to your email."

"Okay, I will be in touch."

Stacia Manuve had been the one to tell him about Christine's attack. He would find a way to help her with her case. Suddenly, his phone rang again.

"Erik, we have another problem. Because of the cut back of our surveillance, Joseph is now missing."

Poor Nadir would have to be the vent for Erik's rage.

"Well, Nadir, instead of talking to me and wasting time, why don't you get out there and find Buquet!"

Slamming the phone down, Erik managed to get himself under control before arriving at Christine's house. He had not intended to hurt her last night; he had never intended to hurt anyone.

Stepping out into the cold air, he sighed with frustration. However, his frustration was short-lived when his attention turned to the open window of Christine's house. With Charles's compromised immune system due to the cancer, he would not be opening windows in winter.

Erik immediately sensed something was awry. Carefully infiltrating the home, Erik cautiously avoided furniture and other obscurities in the dark hallway. Frightful sounds of commotion fluttered through the hallway.

Turning his head upward, Erik realized the noise was coming from Charles's office. His footsteps were slow and hushed as he ascended the stairs, ready for anything.

The commotion was getting more raucous as an argument became discerned. Erik peered through the crack of the partially opened door. Charles, visibly distraught, sat at his desk with his arms thrown up in the air.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets in utter fear. Charles had tattered clothes with blood on them, and his face was bleeding profusely from the nose.

Closing his eyes in debate, Erik tried to decide what he should do. If he were to burst into the room, Buquet could still get away again. On the other hand, if he did not do anything, Charles would die.

After a huge internal battle played out, Erik decided to wait in case of some evidence. If Joseph killed Charles, that was the advantage Erik could use.

As horrible as it sounded, Erik tried to justify Charles's death. He was going to die from cancer anyhow. Voices brought Erik out of his reverie.

"Please don't kill me! I did everything they asked! I haven't spoken a word to anyone…"

Buquet thrust the pistol in the older man's face as Joseph's scarred, smiling face contorted to the appearance of a jackal.

"I really do apologize, but, Mr. Daae, I am doing what I 'as told to do. D. and P. do express their condolences, but you know too much. Any last words, Mr. Daae?"

Erik's heart surged upwards to the ache in his throat. Erik knew that Charles was going to die either way, and he could not afford to jeopardize the case. As years of isolation and suffering flooded back to him, Erik shut down every emotion and feeling as the dying man spoke his last words.

"I love you, my dear Christine, and I will never stop."

Erik backed away to hide from Joseph. Descending the steps, he hid in the closet while his hand grasped the end of his Punjab lasso, ready to strike at any moment. A lone shot rang out as Erik cringed; He mentally pictured the bloody brain matter of Christine's father splattering the walls.

Erik heard hollow sounds from upstairs as Joseph 'cleaned' some of the crime scene. He heard the door close as Joseph ran away.

Unfortunately, Erik has to decide what to do about Charles's body. Deciding to call Nadir, Erik exited the house for safety.

"Khan, we have a dilemma. Buquet just murdered Charles Daae, but I do not want any Frenchman to investigate. They could taint evidence that could implicate Joseph. Get the FBI agent Stacia Manuve to meet with me now at the Starbuck's Coffeehouse. Inform her to come alone. If you must, give her my MI-6 standings. Meanwhile make sure that Joseph does not leave the country."

"What about Christine Daae?"

"I will take care of her. Just be concerned about Joseph. Don't let him leave."

After they hung up, Erik got in his car and pressed his forehead against the cool steering wheel as memories of Luciana, the little girl who had been the only one to show him kindness, flooded his mind.

Memories of her smile, little laughs, and voice echoed in his brain much to his chagrin. Yet, her memories sparked a renewed sense of vengeance in Erik.

Shifting his car into gear, he drove away trying to push his rage down that had plagued him in his entire existence.

Meanwhile, Nair Khan, the distinguished Iranian daroga, sat in one of the five rooms of Erik's underground abode.

Setting his cell phone down on Erik's desk, he contemplated the predicament. Nadir had a feeling that things were going to get a lot worse.

Nadir could not classify his relationship with Erik as 'close.' Erik never spoke of himself, of what he believed, or of his thoughts. They never did anything recreational, only business matters.

While Nadir aided Erik in investigative matters, he could not figure out the riddle Erik was.

Stretching out his long legs before he rose, Nadir called his manservant Darius.

"We need to remove Daae's body out of the house."

While Erik drove to his meeting with Stacia Manuve, making him late to pick Christine up, Christine found herself in between a rock and a hard place.

If she hadn't been in shock, she would have bolted to the nearest bathroom until Raoul had left. However, Fate had intervened and his eyes found her right away.

Both noticed the other had not changed in the past two years. Christine's blue doe-like eyes set against her flawless pale skin was subtly flaunted from long blonde curls while Raoul's dark blue eyes set against slightly tanned skin. A thin blonde moustache was the only difference in his appearance.

Pushing his blonde hair to the side, Raoul tentatively took a step towards Christine, who still stood in a state of surprise.

Christine partially wished that Phillipe would pull him away; however, Andre pulled Phillipe away.

"Hello, Christine, it has been a long time."

Butterflies filled Christine's stomach at hearing his voice after such a long while.

"Hello to you too, Raoul. Yes, it has been a long time."

He asked if she was alone and if he could walk her home. Christine glanced at her wristwatch, and seeing that Erik was really late, she reluctantly acquiesced.

The sun had come out, but failed to bring any warmth, yet Christine and Raoul quietly strolled along the business plaza. Raoul spoke of his time with the Navy while Christine spoke of her music career as understudy to Carlotta. However, she refused from apeaking about her voice instructor.

Christine glanced quickly at the handsome viscount, and noticed his brows were knit together in mental debate.

"What's wrong, Raoul?"

They continued to walk as the noble-hearted de Chagny honestly spoke.

"I never intended to break your heart. I was lost then, Christine, and I needed to find myself. You probably think of me as heartless. I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I want you to know that I kept every single letter, poem, song you sent me."

Christine felt her heart swell as she desperately attempted to fight her feelings for the soldier next to her. He broke her heart, making her cry for weeks. He did not deserve her forgiveness. Yet, Christine found herself slowly forgiving him the more he spoke.

"All I ask of you, Christine, is that we can be friends…we can start over, so I can make it up to you. Can we start over as friends, Christine?"

Christine was ambiguous, debating with herself. He did not deserve a second chance, yet he only wanted to be friends. Heck, she did not have many friends, so she agreed.

"Yes, Raoul, I like to begin again."

Raoul smiled a devastatingly white grin.

"Great, let's continue to your home."

Stacia Manuve got ready to meet Agent Erik Desslar as the form in the shadows twitched in agitation.

"Stacia, you shouldn't go! It's against protocol, and it could very well be a setup. You don't even know Agent Desslar. He is dangerous!"

Stacia whirled around to the person hidden in the dark.

"I know what he did to you, but I have to do this…"

"Why?"

The meek question hung in the air until Stacia relented.

"I can't explain it, but I need to help him."

Stacia sighed as the shape in the dark rose and paced. Remaining in quiet, Stacia waited until the form stopped.

"You are going against my orders"

Stacia thought it strange to listen to a voice with no body. Picking up her purse and keys, she proceeded to leave with her hand on the doorknob.

"I must do this."

"Just know I will be watching."

Whispering, "You always are," to no one in particular, Stacia left.

**A/N: Part two shall take some time. I hope you enjoyed. Please read and review! Let me know what you all think!**

© Copyright 2005


	10. Chapter 9 Pt 2 Music, Mystery, and Murde

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued support. WOW! Thanks for the reviews. I pray that you all continue to read and enjoy. Most of you asked who was talking to Stacia. Well, all I can say is that it is a man from Erik's past who has a score to settle. How do you all enjoy the mystery and sub-mysteries? I hope I am doing the characters justice.**

**RainsP.**

**P.S. Read, relish, and review PART TWO! (Be excited because the Masquerade party will be coming in the near future –Chapter 12-…It promises to be _very_ interesting)**

**_Chapter Nine- Music, Mystery, and Murder Part TWO_**

Stacia took a deep breath before entering the store, searching for the masked man. As she expected, she found him reading a newspaper in the dark corner at the back of the coffeehouse.

Stacia smoothed her black pinstripe pantsuit, and she pushed her long highlighted brown hair behind her back. Twisting the silver ring on her thumb, she sat down apprehensively across Agent Desslar, who still did not acknowledge her presence.

Coming quickly, the waiter interrupted Stacia, wanting to take her order before she could speak. After he brought her a frozen mocha, the only coffee drink she would drink, Stacia opened her mouth, but Erik spoke first.

"Did you come alone? If not, then this meeting will be through."

Narrowing her eyes, Stacia did not like the accusatory tone.

"Agent Desslar, I am not a suspect that you are interrogating. If anyone should be asking questions, it should be me since _you_ were the one who called me here. However, the answer is yes. I did come alone."

He took no notice of her outburst, and nonchalantly set the newspaper to the side. Stacia noticed the skeletal pale hands flexing before disappearing into his black coat.

"Good, then we can proceed. I have a use for you, and I believe that you are most qualified for this job. I want you to take on a case with me."

Stacia tensed up, not from fear of Erik but fear of _him._ She could feel his cold presence around her as she spoke with Erik. Stacia probably should have told Erik they were being watched; however, she knew that _he_ would not interfere because she made _him_ promise not to meddle.

Erik tried not to convey any emotion, but her eyes were gorgeous. He absorbed the way her irises were green yet had red and gold flakes. Do not get Erik wrong, though. He could care less if she were eliminated; he just appreciated true beauty. The only woman he cared about was Christine Daae.

Erik cursed inwardly because he would be late, and she would have to walk home. Nevertheless, this meeting took priority.

"I do not mean to be impolite, Agent Desslar, but how do I know if I can trust you? I am well aware of your MI-6 standings, yet I only do business with the upstanding."

Erik smiled a ghost grin. "I like your attitude, Stacia. That is what I need for this assignment."

Stacia was a homicide investigator for the FBI, and her analytical skills of observing people kicked in at that moment.

"This assignment you have…Does it involve the pretty girl from the park that night?"

He gave no answer as she suspected, but the flash that went through his gold eyes was answer enough.

He pulled out a vanilla folder marked 'Buquet File' and slid it to her on the table. Stacia noted the onyx ring on his pinky finger. She did not pick up the file at first, but stared at the masked man who was becoming very agitated under her intense gaze.

"You will be reimbursed for you services, Agent Manuve."

At his haughty nature, Stacia balked.

"I assure you, Agent Desslar, I am not doing this for money! The only thing I am concerned about is the dead. My job is a homicide investigator; I am the voice of those who have none. I assume that there has been a murder, and you want me to help you solve it."

"Yes, there has been a murder, but I am well aware of who the murderer is. I need you to keep the French law from contaminating my case against the suspect."

"I am not the janitor for your or anyone else's case. However, if it involves that pretty little girl, I will help her anyway I can."

The attractive and obviously intellectual woman now piqued Erik's interest. Why would she be willing to help only for Christine?

"Why would you help then?"

"If you read about me, then you would know. I was raped two years ago, and I will always help women in distress. Isn't that what you do?"

Erik ignored the question and stood up. "I will keep in touch with you, Agent Manuve. Expect to help within the next twenty-four hours."

Stacia nodded solemnly as she watched the gloomy, black-clad figure exit the store. She picked up the file for further study and left.

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Nadir and Darius were thankful that none of the neighbors had called the police. When they entered the house, they found the reason why. Joseph had used a pillow to muffle the gunshot.

"Remind me, Darius, to kill Erik for making us clean this mess up."

Darius, the humble servant, put his hands behind his back. "Sir, you have been saying that for five years."

Nadir chuckled, "Well, this time I mean it."

For a brief time, they observed the gruesome crime scene. To the left of the doorway were bookshelves that held hundreds of novels. Blood had dried to the broken and splintered wood. The novels were dumped in a huge pile, proof of the struggle. The floor of the office was smeared with dried blood.

Moving to the right of the room, the office was a mess of papers and other paraphernalia. In the office chair, Charles's body was slumped over. A huge gaping hole in the back of his head stared at Nadir in its ugliness. Behind the chair, bloody brain matter splattered the wall and had dried.

Nadir and Darius glanced at each other before cleaning the dried blood first. They had grown accustomed to such graphic crime scenes, having seen worse in Iran's genocide cases.

The two had just finished cleaning the brain matter off the wall when they heard a wretched blood-curdling scream.

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Christine and Raoul finally arrived at the house after a pleasant conversation. Christine smiled a brilliant smile at Raoul.

"I bet Dad would love to see you after all this time. Come on in and let's say hi."

Raoul nodded ecstatically and followed her inside.

Christine turned to him. "I bet he's in his office, reading. Follow me upstairs."

As they ascended the stairs, an unnerving feeling filled Christine. It was too quiet in the house. Usually, her father heard her before she could surprise him. She, however, ignored the feeling before opening the door.

Her heart stopped at the sight of a horrid hole in the back of what used to be her father's head. She let out a ghastly cry, not even noticing Nadir Khan and the other strange foreigner. Raoul could not believe what he saw, and he stood with a gaped mouth.

Nadir spun around in surprise as he saw Ms. Christine with her hands cupped over her mouth trying to force down the bile that filled her throat. Nadir cursed inwardly, knowing the sight would traumatize her for life. He also became suspicious of the Navy soldier behind her. Erik would not like this.

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As Erik parked the car in front of the house, his superb hearing was blinded by the sound of a woman's scream. He had a dreadful feeling that it was Christine's shriek. Picking up a file, he rushed to the office of the house to find Nadir, Darius, Christine, and a strange man in a Navy's uniform.

Damn, this was not supposed to be the plan. The masked man glowered at the handsome man behind Christine who held her in his embrace. Neither of the two noticed his presence, too shocked by the sight of the dead body.

Nadir ushered them out of the room to comfort and tell them of the police coming. Actually, the police would not come, but the FBI agent Stacia Manuve would come to give her input of the murder.

Pressing a skeletal hand to his mask in anxiety, Erik tried to force down his rage. The demons were trying to come back in full force. Leaving the crime scene alone, Erik and Darius left the room to wait for Stacia Manuve.

Erik was becoming too hot, and the mask rubbed painfully on his face. He went to the library and lay down on the couch. He heard subtle undertones of voices downstairs, and ignored what was said. Nadir, no doubt, was explaining to Christine that a FBI agent would handle her father's murder so that there would be no contamination by French law. Nadir knew not to give any more detail than necessary.

Left alone with his thoughts, Erik began to wonder about the handsome man in the Navy who had interrupted Christine's life. Much to his displeasure, Erik started to feel hatred to the outsider.

Erik then realized he could no longer deny it. He was in love with Christine Daae, and he would fight to keep her from that man. Brought back to reality, Erik covered his ears as he tried to block out Christine's awful weeping.

Suddenly, Nadir entered the library and sat down in the armchair.

"Who was that man of the Navy, Khan?"

"From what he told me, Erik, he is Viscount Raoul de Chagny. He is the brother to Philippe, the patron of the opera house. He is a long time friend the Daae family. I informed him and Christine that we would take care of her father's murder and we have an agent to help us with the case. Darius and the boy took her to Madame Giry's house to stay, so she would not have to be alone. Is the agent coming?"

"Yes, she should be here soon."

"Are you sure we can trust her? You are not one to trust so easily."

"I know that, but I am also a good judge of character. She is not the one I do not trust."

Nadir glimpsed down as he attempted to hide his face from the masked man. He did not want Erik to see his smirk because he knew that Erik was only jealous of the handsome young man. Raoul could take Christine away from Erik.

On the other hand, Nadir started to worry. Erik was always a possessive person by nature who did not play by the rules. It was Nadir's fear that he would murder the boy with the Punjab lasso. He was known to use it to solve threats before.

Before Nadir could say words of wisdom to Erik, the doorbell rang.

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Stacia Manuve stood outside the small house. She had intensely studied the Buquet file that Desslar had given her. Despite her nagging feeling and _his_ disapproval, she agreed to help.

Agent Desslar opened the door to her. His black mask glared at her, and she felt he was infuriated by something else. He let her in the home and introduced her to the Iranian police chief, Nadir Khan.

After they exchanged formalities of the case, they led her to the office that contained the crime scene. Stacia and the two men did agree that Buquet was the murderer, but why did he kill Charles Daae, a retired violinist?

Stacia spoke to the men, "Okay, my take is this. Agent Desslar, you said Charles only told you that he had cancer. He smoked marijuana as a pain alleviant. Buquet is working for someone or a group who eliminated a little girl who witnessed a bribery exchange. Somehow, Charles Daae is involved. Since you are the agent in charge Erik, give us our assignments."

"Very well, Nadir you still follow through with surveillance of Buquet and his email. I will protect Christine in case she may be an unknowing target. Stacia, I want you to investigate _every_ aspect of Charles."

They ended the meeting and departed with Stacia and Nadir taking Charles's body to the Dr. Phil Rutherford, the coroner that autopsied Luciana Blaine's body. Erik sighed as he drove to the opera house.

The boy did not know he existed, and it was vital for Erik to keep it that way. Besides, Erik had to deliver the notes, demanding lead roles for Christine Daae, as well as his salary. He needed the money to fund the payments to his men doing surveillance. Personally, Erik was a prideful man. He had plenty of money, but there could be no money trail.

Finally, Erik made it to the opera house…

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Two weeks had passed and Christine had not seen Erik once outside their weekly lessons. Raoul and Meg had been with her almost twenty-four hours every day, and while she did not mind, she needed some air. The funeral was tomorrow, and Christine was distraught.

Although her father's death left her devastated, she kept singing. Singing was the only memorial to her father she could imagine to be fitting. He had been the proudest of her when she sang.

Erik had inexplicably become cold to her, taking n the mentality of teacher and pupil instead of her friend. She decided during one lesson to question it.

"Why have you been distant lately, Erik?"

She absorbed the way Erik moved and looked. He wore a long dark blue sleeve shirt and long black pants. He moved with languid movements like the grace of a cat. He wore a white full-face mask, and he turned slowly to face her.

"I presumed that you wanted some space to grieve for your father. I am trying to respect your wishes because I lo…"

Erik bit his tongue to refrain from speaking his feelings aloud. She could never love him; he was too hideous for any woman to look upon him in love.

"You what, Erik? What are you trying to say? I need space from Meg and Raoul, not you! I know they mean well, but you understand my needs more than they do. I need you, Erik."

Erik's heart jumped for joy, but he still refrained from speaking the words that plagued his every thought and every dream. He loved her more than he loved any other in the world. How could she not see it? Stacia saw it the first time they met at the coffeehouse.

He spun around and dropped his arms limply to his sides. He could not face her, at least not now.

"Leave now, Christine."

Her heart tore within her chest. Tears sprang to her eyes, and her throat ached.

"What? How can you say that, Erik?"

Erik's mind was spinning. If she did not leave then, he would lose it. Spinning around to face her, he bellowed, "Leave now, Christine! I want you to go! Get the hell away from me!"

She started to cry then. "I don't understand why you are being so cruel to me, Erik! How can you be so callous! You are not my guard or voice teacher any longer! I will leave, and I never wish to see you again!"

Erik dropped to his knees and forced the tears back down as she ran out of his life. Christine left him at her old home and ran to Meg's in absolute heartache. She never meant the last statement.

Ignoring Meg and Madame Giry, she locked herself in her room and cried herself to sleep.

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Erik knew he could not stop being her protector. When he managed to get control of himself, he went to see her. Hiding in the dark of the night, he saw she slept soundly with tearstains on her face.

Erik felt two paradox feelings. He felt elated that she cared so much for him, and yet, he felt miserable that she felt so much for him as well.

Slipping unnoticed into the room, he stood by her bedside. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but he touched his mask in contempt, knowing he could never go through with it.

Finally, he opened his mouth, and his stunning voice filled the room.

When you try your best but you don't succeed  
When you get what you want but not what you need  
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep  
Stuck in reverse

When the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you can't replace  
When you love someone but it goes to waste  
could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home  
and ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you

High up above or down below  
when you're too in love to let it go  
If you never try you'll never know  
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home  
and ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face  
When you lose something you cannot replace  
Tears stream down your face and I

Tears stream down your face  
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes  
Tears stream down your face and I

Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you

(A/N: Lyrics/Song by Coldplay!)

Erik then softly added, "I love you, Christine" before he left as quickly and silently as he came in the room.

What Erik did not know was that Christine was very much awake, and kept her eyes closed the entire time. She heard every word, and she was so happy to hear that he loved her. He did not hate her!

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During the funeral, all were inconsolable. Erik did not join the memorial service, but instead watched from afar. He stood next to some graves at least fifty yards away and watched the funeral procession. Christine kept looking for him, her head turning side to side.

She had cried so much that dry tears had come. She suddenly became listless and taciturn. Erik noticed that she did not acknowledge anyone else, only staring blankly at the closed casket.

He left before the eulogies began. He needed to apologize to her; he needed her in his life…even if she was just his student.

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Christine stopped crying not because of her father, but because Erik had not shown up. How could he still be so heartless? If he truly loved her, then he would have been there to comfort her.

She had cried enough for her father's death. After the funeral was over, Raoul gave her his jacket.

"Christine, would you like me to take you home?"

She looked up into his kind face, and she realized that she was developing feelings for this compassionate man. Did she love Erik? She was so confused with her feelings about anything that she could not answer.

"Yes, Raoul, I would like that."

They smiled faintly at each other before leaving.

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As Erik approached the house slowly to apologize to Christine for his cruel behavior, he thought of what he would say. He never made an apology before in his entire life. This would be awkward.

His heart thudded painfully against his chest as he witnessed the car pull up. He almost stepped forward until he saw the good-looking de Chagny get out opening the door for Christine.

At the sight of him, Erik was filled with homicidal rage, and he thirsted to kill the boy for going near her.

Christine got out and smiled brilliantly at the boy, creating more anger in Erik. How could she smile for the boy when he did not love her as he did?

Erik stepped back in the shadows as he listened to the two 'lovers.'

"Thank you for taking me home, Raoul. I really appreciate you comforting me this time. I know I have been a burden to you."

"On the contrary, Christine, I would not be anywhere else. You are important to me."

She smiled again, and stood on her tiptoes and they kissed softly on the lips. Erik's fingernails drew blood as he clenched his fists so hard. As his blood began to pool near his feet, Erik formed a plan to get revenge on them all.

Storming way with hell's fury, Erik vowed vengeance and with one last look at the woman whom he loved. As he looked at her beautiful face, he drove to the theater to cause trouble as Christine went inside the home, unknowing of whose heart she tore into pieces.

**A/N: I worked my tail off to get this chapter to you! I pray you all like this chapter with the interaction between Erik and Christine and Raoul. I hope you REVIEW! The next chapter is called Unmasking the Mystery…wink, wink…**

© Copyright 2005


	11. Chapter 10 Unmasking the Mystery

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: I am glad so many of you all are reading this story. It means a lot to me. In this chapter, Erik bites off more than he can chew. Christine finally confronts Erik with tragic consequences, while Philippe warns Raoul about the future. Nadir and Madame Giry discuss Erik and more about his past. Finally, Stacia and the mysterious link to Erik's past talk…and someone dies.**

**R&R please and thank-you!**

_**HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!**_

**_Chapter Ten- Unmasking the Mystery_**

Erik had successfully made it to the attic of the Opera de Rennes before the bile pushed its way up into his throat. With great effort, Erik was able to force it back down, tears coming out of his masked face.

A deep-throated cry of rage echoed the silent attic as a mask soared across the room. Turning slightly to the open window he had come through, Erik closed his eyes as he reveled in the cold breeze that soothed his burning and raw face. The deformity had no doubt inflamed due to the constant rubbing from the mask.

With his mask back on, Erik carefully walked down the two flights of steps, but took an alternate door that led to the rafters of the stage. As he approached the rafters, he heard Buquet and a voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

When he was close enough, he stepped to the side of the rafters, cautiously avoiding being spotted. To his surprise, Stacia and Joseph were arguing about some unknown topic on the part of the rafters where the scenery backdrops were located.

Stacia aggressively shook her finger at Joseph.

"You knew what he was planning and you did nothing to stop it! You deserve to die for helping that man! What's worse is that you killed that little girl, and for some unknown reason, you killed Charles Daae."

Joseph stepped forward, his hands raised in defense. "Listen, lady, I 'ad nutin' to do with any of 'at. I don't know w'at you are talkin' about."

Stacia then whipped a pistol out and aimed it right at Buquet's head, and Erik stopped himself from intervening at the sight of Buquet's eyes bulging out of his skull in fear.

"I am through playing games, Joseph! William is out for blood, and you are part of the reason I am here. I want answers…and unless I get them, your eyes will be rolling into the orchestra pit."

For emphasis, she pushed the gun to his forehead, and he started talking. Erik smirked inwardly. He had chosen the agent well; she had used a very successful technique all law enforcement agents use to get answers from suspects: fear.

"Okay, I'll talk. I did kill that 'ittle girl, but I was ordered to do it. I can't tell you more than 'at. I'll tell you the story 'bout the girl. She saw the bribery exchange between Michael and Paul. T'at's how your rapist got off wit' no punishment. Michael paid Paul to keep himself out of jail. The 'ittle girl saw the wrong thing at the wrong time…"

Erik withdrew into the shadows in shock as the information processed in his genius brain. Michael raped Stacia, and he paid Paul, a judge, to keep himself out of jail. Luciana, who was at court waiting for Erik to finish testifying in a trivial case, happened to witness the exchange.

Erik's head began to pound with an immense headache. However, he refused to let his guard down as Stacia turned to leave. She had gotten all the information that she sought. As she started to walk away, Joseph picked up a board used to support scenery. He lifted it high above his head, ready to crack Stacia's skull. Both Erik and Stacia reacted with a cry.

Erik jumped from the rafter he was on to the other side behind Buquet. Stacia aimed the gun at Buquet as she whirled around to face Joseph. Shock covered her face as she saw Erik.

"Desslar, what are you doing here?"

Joseph took her surprise for his advantage and swung the board, which knocked her gun over the railing and on the stage. Unfortunately, the gun went off, and Erik's shoulder exploded with a painful fire. Erik instinctively clutched the gunshot wound as blood poured out. He fell to his knees in agony, but knew he had to get up and protect the FBI agent.

Before Joseph could shove Erik over the railing, Stacia kicked the board out of Joseph's hand and started to fight Buquet. The rafter began to sway with all of the commotion. Erik realized that if they did not stop, the rafter would collapse; and they all would crash into the stage.

Stacia, as if she read his mind, quickly stopped moving. However, Joseph tried one last time to throw off Stacia's balance when the unthinkable happened.

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Philippe sat in boredom as Raoul relived his day with Christine Daae. Philippe had a head for business; nevertheless, he also had a knack for protecting the family name.

"My young brother, it seems that you have fallen in love with the chorus girl."

Raoul looked at his older brother with an inquisitive look before smiling broadly, as he thought of Christine's face.

"I love her a lot, Philippe. I never stopped loving her even when I was at sea with the Navy."

Raoul's smile quickly faded as he saw the look on Philippe's face. It was a grave look, the same look their father gave Philippe before he gave a lecture.

"Raoul, you are a viscount, heir to the de Chagny fortune. Can you imagine what gossip and what detriment would be thrown at our business if you married beneath our status? All that I have worked to create and achieve would be undermined. Do you really want to destroy your brother…your father's business?"

Raoul hung his head for a moment before he spoke.

"Philippe, you know I would never intentionally hurt the business name, but you always said to marry out of love. You never wanted us to make the same mistake our father made by marrying for business purposes. I love her, brother, and I will stop any scandalous talk that could ruin you. I would not let them use me to hurt you."

"Raoul, you could not stop them! If you marry the girl, you will be separated from all funds from the de Chagny fortune and business. You will be as destitute as the poor chorus girl is. Think about what you are doing!"

"I know what I am doing, brother. If I did not give my heart to her, I would regret it the rest of my life, and no amount of money could fix that."

Philippe had a feeling that their talk would be one of many as Raoul left the Opera house. Sighing heavily, he poured himself a glass of brandy, staring idly at the Opera Ghost's notes of demands.

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It had begun to snow lightly as Madame Giry and Nadir Khan sat near the fireplace. Meg had gone with Christine shopping for gifts for the holidays rapidly approaching.

Antoinette and Nadir drank some herbal tea and began to reminisce about the days they shared a decade ago.

"Do you remember the time when you yelled at the crowd of people who were taunting Erik?"

Madame Giry smiled fondly at the memory. Nadir chuckled slightly as he, too, remembered.

"That was the first time I heard you yell, Antoinette. That was really more terrifying than Erik."

Antoinette laughed softly.

"Yes, Erik got us into some deep trouble at times. We were the _Three Musketeers_ back when I did not have gray streaks in my hair. We had countless adventures with Erik, and that is why I suppose we have remained 'friends' with our masked man. No one else could put up with him as much as we did!"

Erik, Nadir, and Antionette traveled extensively together, searching for answers to Erik's past. The quest took them throughout Europe, Russia, Middle East, and America. Erik's origins were virtually unknown.

Erik's mother frequently put obstacles in their path whether it was lies to a renegade group to stall the three from finding her or hiring assassins to get rid of the annoying trio.

His mother was the key to unlocking the mysteries behind Erik's past. When they succeeded in fighting off renegade officers, assassins (thanks impart to Erik and his Punjab lasso), and other assailants who Erik's mother lied to; Erik finally got answers.

Erik's mother, who finally aged so much that she could not run away anymore, ultimately acquiesced to telling Erik everything.

Erik was born in a small town Rouen, France. Her deceased husband was a masonry carpenter; however, he was not the father of Erik. His mother had an affair with a renowned political figure, Paul MacLean. He had fathered the child.

When Madeline had told him of the child they conceived, he wanted her to abort the baby. A child would ruin his reputation, and he could not allow that. Madeline was adamant that she wanted to keep their lovechild. He was not going to allow it.

Madeline threatened to expose him, willing to sacrifice everything to keep the baby, but Paul made sure that she would do no such thing. He forged papers and conjured up false witness that made it appear the Madeline was a terrorist working for vigilante groups who wanted to overthrow the president.

She became a fugitive during her entire pregnancy, wanted for treason. She fled France as Paul's men went after her. When the time came for the baby to come, she resided in the Middle East where she gave birth to Erik.

To her utter horror, the baby was severely deformed in the face, but otherwise was a healthy boy. Madeline refused to accept that all her suffering and woe amounted to a freak of a child. She suffered from severe depression, and had it not been for some kind Christians, Erik would cease to exist.

As a matter of honor, she gave the child a name: Erik Desslar. To keep the child safe, she used her dead husband's surname. With no answers to give her son, she abandoned him to the convent that had taken care of him so long.

Like a refugee, she fled from him, leaving him with only one gift…a mask. After Erik turned eight, he escaped from the convent, and he joined a lone gypsy group in Kazakhstan. There he learned the art of magic and isolation.

An old gypsy fortuneteller gave him the name of his mother: Madeline Desslar. After years of abuse from Javert, he escaped with help at the age of fifteen. For five years, he searched for his mother with no success. He finally gave up at twenty, and that is when he met Nadir and Madame Giry.

Madame Giry and Nadir conversed on the wild adventures they shared as the three searched for his refugee mother.

"I remember the jungle assassins that chased us through the Amazon Jungle, and you, Nadir, threw them off by covering yourself with elephant urine."

"Yes, it was not my best memory…I could not get the smell out for three days, and Erik left us to fend for ourselves as he wandered around searching for the Kanacami's camp where Madeline stayed."

"Do you remember the time when we were at Tallinn, Estonia?"

"How could I not forget? That was where we finally found Madeline."

"Something has bothered me from that day…"

Nadir leaned forward, near Madame Giry. They both were very close, since they lost their soul mates so close together.

"What has bothered you, Ann?"

"It was something Madeline said that perturbed me. She turned to me when we were alone and she was on her deathbed. She turned to me and whispered, 'I never told Erik about his real father.' Before I could as her what she meant, she had died."

Nadir looked at her in baffled. "Why did you keep it secret all this time, Ann?"

She stared at her lap. "Erik had gotten some peace at last, and I did not want to destroy it. Besides, it may have been her way of manipulating us from the grave."

Nadir sighed. "Well, don't tell Erik, yet. Let me look into it."

She nodded and they continued to drink tea after their evening became a little more solemn.

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Erik sat at his organ beneath the opera house. He was delighted to be back in his underground home, away from the eyes of man. Inspiration had struck him, and he now sat with the song he wrote.

Stacia had taken the bullet out of his arm and doctored it. She would meet him at the Daae home to tend to his arm with better antibiotics tomorrow evening.

Erik, put his arm in a self-made sling to prevent damage to the tissue of his shoulder and to take pressure off it.

He had overheard the conversation between Philippe and Raoul. To his surprise, Erik found he agreed with Philippe.

As he contemplated his revenge, Erik found himself standing in the middle of his art studio. Paintings and drawings he made of Christine stared back at him.

A dull ache formed in his throat, and he began to sing the song he created quietly to the empty space in the room.

_The stars start to fade_

_You pushed me away while he stayed_

_My heart tumbles to the ground_

_As you turn around_

_To oblivion…oblivion_

_Your love for me is only poison_

_As you close your eyes and whisper a prayer_

_Wishing you were everywhere and nowhere_

_Your eyes open and I can't see_

_Your blue eyes and I shiver_

_When blood pours from my soul_

_From the wound, your dagger left a hole_

_And the truth is simply that I love you_

_Knowing I never had you and he loves you too_

_My heart is dying slowly_

_You don't even know my love, only my fury_

_You left me to bleed and die_

_From heartache without a goodbye_

_As you tore my soul apart_

_Revenge…revenge I will start_

_I rush to the darkness I once was born in_

_To take part in it's loneliness again_

_In the night where stars fade_

_I will reside in until you end the charade_

_He will love you, as you need_

_Until revenge will tear you two apart and I succeed_

_Sweet dreams my one and only love_

_Tomorrow your heart will die as the stars fade above_

As he finished the song, his cell phone rang. Much to his chagrin, Erik saw it was Christine calling.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Erik, i-it's me…I need to talk to you. Can you come over to m-my house…It's important."

"I will be there in the hour."

"Bye."

After he hung up, Erik berated himself. How could he become weak and giver her everything she asked…_Because you love her…_ The voice inside his head cooed.

True to his word, Erik made it to Christine's house in fifteen minutes. He had taken off the sling so he would not arouse her suspicion. He crossed the dark streets as snow lightly fell to the ground.

Before he knocked, Christine opened the door. She was dressed in a simple long-sleeve red shirt and jeans. Her golden hair tumbled down her back in curls. She was stunning.

Her blue eyes scanned his as he slowly walked past her.

She offered him a seat, which he declined. Sighing heavily, she sat down on the piano bench and stared at the floor. Erik noticed her discomfort and decided to speak first.

"I suppose you asked me over for a reason, Ms. Daae."

She looked up at him with tears forming in her eyes. Erik's heart lurched. Why must he always make her cry? She spoke softly and hurriedly.

"Erik, I was angry with you the other day. I did not mean to say those hurtful things to you. I want you to be my teacher again. I need you. Please will you be my teacher again?"

Erik wanted to say yes, of course, but the boy's face collided into his head.

"Christine, you broke my rule. You were to sing only for me, and now you are only singing for the _boy._ You are not whole-heartedly dedicated to your music. What am I supposed to believe? You do not want me protecting you. I have only done what you wanted."

Christine's eyes flared with anger.

"Leave Raoul out of this! He has nothing to do with us!"

Erik viciously snapped, "Oh like hell he doesn't! Ever since he came, you do not even acknowledge me. You do not even need me. All I have done, I have done for you."

She stood angrily and walked to Erik. She suddenly punched Erik in the shoulder. To her utter surprise, Erik toppled over in pain. He groaned as he clutched his shoulder.

He glared at her. "Why did you do that? All you cause me is pain!"

Before she could top herself, she angrily retorted, "You deserve the worst pain for what you have done to me!"

Erik stood up with his hand clutching his shoulder. "I deserve this? I deserve pain? I was shot protecting you! How dare you presume me to be a monster! Why must you be selfish? Your father's last words were of you!"

As soon as the words came out, Erik realized his major error. Christine cocked her head as it hit her.

"You were there when my father died and you never told me! I HATE YOU!"

Erik could not control himself anymore, nor could he control the words that came out. "Grow up, Christine! You live in a fantasy world. I love you! All the boy wants from you is sex!"

Christine slapped his masked face as hard as she could at the crude remark. Both stood still in shock as Erik's mask tumbled the floor.

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Stacia slid into bed, her body aching with exhaustion. The whole night had wearied her, especially trying to stop Erik's blood loss. She had never seen so much blood. It surprised her that he could still stand and walk.

When she got to her hotel room, she took a shower and slipped into her nightclothes. Closing her eyes, she almost drifted to sleep until the door opening awakened her. She knew it was _he_, and she shut her eyes to pretend she was asleep.

It failed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her face.

"I love you, Stacia. I do not expect you to reciprocate my feelings…"

Stacia lunged up and grasped his face as he desperately tried to pull away.

"I have always loved you, William! I do not like who you have become! I love you so much, but your vendetta against Desslar is hurting us!"

She leaned forward and they shared a deep kiss. His tears lightly touched her cheeks before he pulled away.

"Get some sleep, my love. Tomorrow is a new day, and I have something planned for Desslar."

**A/N: Ah, so much drama…so little time. Review my readers! I love you all! Happy holidays! Be safe.**

© Copyright 2005


	12. Chapter 11 Unmasking the Masked Man

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Ha ha, it seems I always update around the holidays. I got a laptop for Christmas: I am thrilled. Please ignore grammatical errors! This is IT: the BIG UNMASKING SCENE!**

**R&R please and thank-you!**

**_HAPPY HOLIDAYS!_**

_**Chapter Eleven- Unmasking the Masked Man**_

There was no way for Erik to stop what was happening. His heart shattered to pieces within his chest as the porcelain mask itself tumbled to debris on the wood floor. Both he and Christine stood rigidly still, facing each other face to face for the first time.

Erik subconsciously closed his fist as he fought back the inner demons he had controlled for a long time; however, when the look of pure disgust passed through Christine's eyes, he knew he was going to lose the battle.

Christine stared at him with a sickly abhorrence, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her skull with fright. She stumbled backwards, tripping over the coffee table to blot out what her eyes were seeing.

A white skull with two large black holes and two gold orbs of fire glared at her; eerily, he seemed to hover like a ghost with a floating head because of the black attire he wore.

Christine could easily distinguish the blue and red veins that were set on yellow parchment-textured skin. He was so deathly pale: he looked like Death himself. The worst part of the entirety of Erik's countenance was the hole in the middle of his face where there should have been a nose. To her utter horror, Christine let out a shriek as he gave her a ghastly look of hatred. The protuberant eyes made the slits of his vacant nostrils snort in derisive anger.

Christine tried to conjure up words, but they, too failed her. This could not be her gentle teacher, guardian, and protector. Where had her handsome prince gone? Where was the man that she fell in love with months ago?

She turned, desperately trying to get away from the repulsive face, but Erik was not about to let her get away.

Erik's demons forced their way into his mind in blind rage. He could see or hear nothing except Christine's scream repeatedly. Christine's face and Lily's face flashed through his mind so much so that their faces intertwined into a look of pure repugnance.

He did not remember what happened next as he forcefully grabbed Christine's arm and twisted it painfully behind her back.

"You little twit! You wanted to see me: your handsome protector! What is wrong, my angel? Do you not like what you see! Do you not like what I _really_ am: a monster?"

She pleaded for him to let her go, but he refused and continued in his cynical and morbid banter.

"Are you afraid of me now, Christine? You should be; consequently, my soul is as hideous as my face! Why are you squirming? Surely, you are not afraid of your teacher: the teacher that molded you into a perfect star!"

Christine pushed and clawed at him to get away, but he was too strong and easily overpowered her. Her eyes flickered to his face and the door in pure terror as rivers of tears poured down her pretty face.

"Erik, please, let me go! I thought I could handle it, b-but I j-just cannot!"

A frighteningly evil snicker emitted from Erik's throat as Christine watched his gold eyes turn almost completely black from his pupils' dilation.

In sheer terror, she kicked him in the groin. Erik immediately groaned as he dropped her arm. Running to the door, Christine screamed as Erik grabbed her from behind and threw her on the couch.

Forcefully, he grabbed her hands and pressed her fingernails into his sickly yellow flesh on his cheeks, and mocked her.

"What is it, my dear? Are you afraid of me? Do you believe that this atrocity is also a mask?"

He pushed her nails into his flesh, blood poured down both their hands, as he scraped them down his cheeks.

"Well, if this, too, is a mask, then take it off!"

He made no movement or shout of pain; he just maniacally laughed. When he would not stop, Christine made one last desperate effort.

Erik's eyes gazed at her for a moment, registering her words. When the rage had finally died down inside of him, Erik realized the dreadful magnitude of what he had done. He looked down and saw both of their bloodied hands.

Christine was shocked when Erik hurled himself into the nearest dark corner and muttered to himself in Arabic. She could not think or breathe, so traumatized by the whole incident. How long had he suffered to hide his hurt with anger and violence?

She had set off his fuse. She had been so blind. Why did she not consider he was deformed and had to wear a mask to prevent people from reacting as she had done?

As much as she hated it, his face repulsed her. It was hideous, but his face was not his fault.

She still cared for him, but she could not get past his violent behavior. He was insane! He could have killed her! Christine decided to try to calm him down so he would not hurt anyone else.

"Erik?"

She took a tentative step forward. He rocked in a fetal position muttering, "What have I done?" continually to himself.

He did not acknowledge her presence, and the only movement he made was to grip his shoulder.

"Erik, I need to take you to a hospital."

"NO! I _cannot_ go back to a hospital. I will DIE!"

She jumped from his furious outburst.

Erik stood up with excruciating pain. When she hit him in the shoulder, the wound that Stacia had doctored ruptured. Christine tried to step closer to him, and he hid his face further in the shadows.

"Erik, please let me do something to help you."

He stood there pathetically holding his wounded shoulder with a sorrow-filled expression on the ugly face. He glared at her in anger before hissing, "Haven't you done _enough_?"

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door loudly.

"Christine, it's Raoul. I am here for our date!"

Christine's heart jumped in alarm. Erik would kill him! She rushed to the door and spoke to Raoul, "I'll be there in a minute. Hold on just a second."

Christine planned to soothe Erik's broken heart; however, when she turned around, no one was there. He was gone, but he left something behind.

Panic aroused in her as she read a message he left her…in his own _blood_.

_When I fell in love with a girl so divine,_

_I vowed in all ways to make her mine,_

_She broke my heart with her lies_

_She will suffer my pain until her demise_

_Christine, my dear, my soul is in dismal pain because of your lying game._

_Be prepared for what I do next._

_Simply,_

_Erik_

Christine immediately picked up her coat, and ran outside. Raoul raced after her as she bolted into the night.

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Meanwhile…

Stacia awoke; it was around two o'clock. Yawning she turned over and noticed a piece of paper on a pillow next to her head. She was reminded of an incident that occurred two nights ago.

Nadir told Stacia that Christine Daae went shopping with Meg Giry. Erik had disappeared. He left a vague message on her phone simply stating that he and Christine were not on good terms.

Around eleven o'clock that night, she had stopped William from killing Erik Desslar. He would have been dead had she not intervened. Shutting her eyes, she relived the memory.

_After a brief meeting with some police officials regarding the senator's murder, Stacia headed up to the station's rooftop to get some air. A sinking feeling had filled the pit of her stomach, but she chose to ignore it. _

_When she opened the door to the roof, she was surprised to find a black attired man putting together a sniper rifle. Stacia gasped when he rose and his face was revealed. It was William!_

"_Hello, my angel. I am pleased to see that you have joined me._

_"William, what the deuce are you doing up here with a rifle?"_

_He smiled an eerie smirk before assembling the body of the gun. He briefly glanced through the scope and put his finger on the trigger._

_William then turned back to her and motioned for her to follow him to the edge of the roof. Curiosity got the best of her and she followed him. _

_However, when she peered over the edge, she saw nothing except for empty streets and sidewalks._

_Facing William, Stacia looked at him inquisitively. He glanced at her before setting the rifle to face the direction of the door to the neighboring building. Not taking his eyes from the scope, he spoke to her._

"_Within the next two minutes, Erik Desslar will be stepping out of that music store, and I intend to rid the world of this rogue agent once and for all!"_

_With emphasis, he placed his finger on the trigger, ready to pull it at any moment. Stacia's heart lurched within her chest and she placed her hand on the gun. Immediately, he relinquished._

_He icily hissed, "Why are you stopping me? Have you developed feelings for that **man?**"_

_Stacia retorted back with anger, "Of course I don't love him. I love you only, but Erik saved my life!"_

_William's eyes flashed with emotion. He placed the gun in his lap and turned to her._

"_What do you mean? Who tried to hurt you?"_

_Sighing heavily, she told him the story about the escapade with Joseph Buquet. At the end of the tale, William remained silent as he absorbed all of the information. Then, he responded to her story._

"_So, this rogue agent went out of his way to save you from that French pig Joseph? Well, I suppose that I will spare his life."_

"_What did you two do with Buquet's body?"_

_He stopped questioning her when it became obvious that she would not answer the question anyhow._

_William then took the sniper rifle apart and placed it back into its case. His golden hazel eyes flashed with irritation. Stacia placed her hand on his back. _

_"Thank you, William; I know you spared his life for me. That makes me love you even more."_

_He grunted with mild annoyance and stood. Her breath caught in her throat as some strands of his golden hair fell in his face, while his eyes caught hers in a passionate display of his love._

_Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he started to leave the roof; nevertheless, he spoke once more before he disappeared as he usually did._

"_Stacia, I have spared his life for your behalf, but I will not stop making him pay in other ways than his life. I will make sure he suffers physically and emotionally for what he has done to me…to us."_

_And as quickly as he came, he left as silent as a whisper._

Picking up the small paper with familiar handwriting on it, Stacia read it to herself.

_Stacia,_

_Go to the hotel's ballroom._

_Do not arouse any suspicion. I have a surprise for you. Be dressed in the dress I bought for you. It is hanging in the bathroom._

_Yours truly,_

_William_

_P.S. I am well aware of the time of the day_

Stacia smiled in spite of herself. What was he up to now? She slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom to get ready. When she finished her shower and slipping on the dress, she looked in the mirror.

She had make-up on, but it was subtle: the way that William liked it. Her olive toned face was accented by her emerald green eyes. Stacia accented her eyes with a bronze eye shadow and a shimmering pink lip gloss. Her hair tumbled down her back in brunette curls.

Her dress was absolutely stunning. It was a satin, soft royal blue color gown that tumbled to the floor delicately. It had a corset style cut with glittering crystals that sparkled along with the matching chandelier earrings.

When she was satisfied with her appearance, Stacia made her way down to the ballroom floor.

She walked slowly and quietly to the doorman who stood outside the entrance. As he saw her approach, he opened the grand wood doors for her to enter. Stacia gasped at what she saw.

The ballroom was dazzling! The white marble floor was accented by the stucco-styled white walls. There were dozens of beautiful paintings of nature scenes filling the four immense walls.

There was a table in the center of the room with two silver platters and covers. The white table cloth was covered in red rose petals, and the centerpiece of the table was a crystal candelabrum with six lit candles that made the table even more beautiful. Above the table a large chandelier hung overhead. The ceiling had a colorful painting of a blue sky that appeared almost realistic.

Stacia smiled even more with excitement from wonder of William's motive. She scanned the ballroom in search of him, but she could not find him. She was alone in the immense room.

"William, where are you?"

She startled only slightly when she felt warm arms envelope her. Feeling his lips on her neck, she closed her eyes as a beautiful voice whispered into her ear.

"I am right here, my angel."

Stacia turned around in his arms and brushed her knuckle on his cheek. He closed his eyes in total ecstasy, and Stacia kissed his lips softly.

He pulled away suddenly to her disappointment. He stood in front of the table, and Stacia was able to absorb his form. He was dressed in a fine Italian tailored suit with tuxedo tails. His black tie was luminous against his black shirt made of Egyptian cotton.

His Italian suit pants were fitted to perfection and black shoes gleamed in the candle light. Stacia was incredibly attracted to him.

William pulled out her chair for her.

As he pushed her seat to the table, he took his own seat across from her. A waiter came out of nowhere and removed the candelabrum from the table so the two could see each other.

She waited for William to say something. When he did not, she took the opportunity.

"What is all of this?"

He smiled a stunningly white smile that Stacia adored. Motioning with his hand, a waiter brought two glasses of champagne. As soon as the waiter left, William raised his glass. Stacia did the same.

He toasted to a very special night.

After they both took a sip of the bubbly drink, William folded his slender but strong hands.

"To answer your previous question, I have created for us a romantic dinner. I wanted to treat you like a queen because I love you deeply."

He always had treated her like a queen, so Stacia found this entirely suspicious. It was obvious that he was hiding something from her.

"William, you always treat me well: what are you hiding?"

His dazzling smile faded as he gazed into her eyes. Grasping both sides of her face, he kissed her deeply.

"You win. I will tell you everything…after we dance and eat and enjoy each other."

Stacia gave up and took his extended hand. At his command, music from the speakers resounded in the immense room, surrounding Stacia in bliss. He knew _Coldplay_ was one of her favorite bands, so he had one of her favorite songs the group had sung played on their romantic night.

As they danced, William pressed his cheek to hers, and kissed her. He then began to sing along to the song's melody much to Stacia's delight.

_Still my heart_

_And hold my tongue_

_I feel my time_

_My time has come_

_Let me in_

_Unlock the door_

_I never felt this way before_

_And the wheels just keep on turning_

_The drummer begins to drum_

_I don't know which way I'm going_

_I don't know which way I've come_

_Hold my head_

_Inside your hands_

_I need someone_

_Who understands_

_I need someone_

_Someone who hears_

_For you I've waited all these years_

_Chorus:_

_For you I'd wait_

_Till kingdom come_

_Until my day_

_My day is done_

_Say you'll come_

_And set me free_

_Just say you'll wait_

_You'll wait for me_

**(A/N: Song "Kingdom Come" from _Coldplay_)**

Stacia had closed her eyes and set her head on William's shoulder, almost lulled to sleep. When the song had finished and his amazing voice ceased from singing, he led her to the table.

They enjoyed a delightful meal of some gourmet pasta. After they finished a cheesecake dessert, Stacia waited for William to tell her everything.

Once he was through, he watched Stacia intently, soaking up her every detail.

"Okay, as I promised, I will tell you. First, I created this entire evening in order to create something for me to remember you. I will be gone for the next week, and you will not be able to see me. If my plan for Desslar wrecked, then I will be arrested. I want to remember you, my angel. I want to remember us when we loved each other deeply."

Stacia flew to the other side of the table as he stood. He took her in his arms as he always did, and Stacia desperately grasped at his suit's lapels.

"William, it does not have to be like this! You and I together is all that matters! I love you…You promised me that you'd never leave me, and yet you are going to throw me away like garbage!"

He gripped her arms and pulled her deeper into him.

"I am not doing this selfishly, Stacia. Do you have any idea what Erik would do if he finds out that I am still alive? I could never throw you away…I would go mad. You are the only reason I am sane now! Leaving you is not my plan, but it is entirely plausible that my plan would be foiled. Please my angel, go now."

Stacia only held him tighter much to his disappointment. She would not leave without a fight.

"Kiss me, William."

He moaned as he fought hard against his desires. William was a resilient man with strong character, so it was a rarity for him to plead. Yet, he began to plead.

"Please, my angel, I am begging you to go. I cannot…I can't…"

Right as his resolve began to crumble, Stacia's cell phone rang. She reluctantly picked it up.

It was Erik. He stated he desperately needed to meet her at the Opera House in dressing room #103.

Putting away her cell phone in her purse, she gave him a look of pure longing. It was a look that tore William's heart into shreds.

As she left to help Erik, William contemplated his plan to destroy Erik.

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Amidst the turmoil of Erik, Christine, Stacia, and William, it was Nadir and Madame Giry trying to discern the truth about Erik's past.

Madame Giry and Nadir had gone to the Opera House to her ballet rooms. When they reached her office, Nadir sat down in one of the leather chairs as he watched Antoinette go to her file cabinet to the back of the room.

Pulling out the first drawer, she reached in the back of it, and pulled out a secret compartment. There, she pulled out a dusty picture in a frame.

Handing it to Nadir, she sat down across from him. Nadir gazed at the aging picture. It showed a young woman of twenty-eight and a young handsome man of thirty stood next to each other in some park. In her arms, she held a child with a mask- Erik.

Madame Giry poured them both two glasses of wine.

"Madeline gave me this photo many years ago. It is of her, Erik's father Paul McLean, and Erik."

Nadir gazed at the photo, searching for any clues. When he found none, he attempted to hand it back to Madame Giry.

It slipped from her grasp and crashed on the floor. The glass broke into shards as the wood splintered into pieces. To their surprise a letter that fluttered to the floor.

Nadir and Antoinette looked at each other in curiosity. What was this letter? Nadir was the one brave enough to pick it up and read it aloud to Madame Giry.

_My Dearest Madeline,_

_You are the light of my heart. I live and breathe for you. I love you more than anything. And to my amazement, you are having OUR lovechild together! I cannot wait to hold my child in my arms with you by my side._

_I love you deeply!_

_Forever yours,_

_M.T._

Nadir and Madame Giry then realized that their adventure had only just begun. In this letter lay a greater mystery to be solved. Who was Erik's true father? They both vowed to investigate further.

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Raoul ran after a distraught Christine who ended up at the Opera house. Before he could stop her, she ended up in her dressing room. The dressing room was at the end of the hallway.

He called after her, but she did not hear anything that he said to her. The door was slammed shut and locked right as he reached the doorway. Raoul banged on the door with his fist.

"Christine! Christine, please tell me what's wrong? Don't hide from me! You can trust me."

His pleas were met with silence. However, Raoul was not easily put off. He continued to make a commotion.

"What in the world is going on here?"

He turned around to find that Madame Giry and a foreign person staring at him in complete bewilderment.

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait in an update. My New Year's resolution is to be more diligent in an update! Au revoir! R&R**

© Copyright 2005


	13. Chapter 12 Oh, What Tangled Webs Woven

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: The Masquerade scene is chapter 13, and I promise a lot will happen. William's past will be revealed in parts, but the _full report_ of his connection _to Erik_ is coming. In this chapter, people prepare for the Masquerade, and some of the people have devious intentions.**

**Beware! There is some violence in this chapter.**

**_Chapter Twelve- Oh, What Tangled Webs Woven_**

Raoul suddenly felt silly at being caught making such a fuss. He did not recognize the foreign man, but he could not be introduced unless he explained his own odd behavior.

"I apologize, Madame Giry, but it appears that something or someone has upset Christine. I came to pick her up for our date. When I got to her house, she ran out in hysterics, and she has locked herself in the room. I want to make sure she is okay."

Antoinette and Nadir looked at each other in realization. They both were thinking the same thing: Erik was behind the young woman's terror.

Nadir introduced himself to distract Raoul as Madame Giry walked towards Christine's door when a ballet student stopped her.

"Madame Giry, the managers request your immediate presence in their office. They need your help."

The ballet student then left while Antoinette was conflicted. She knew she had to go help the managers, yet she feared Erik had gone mad and hurt Christine. In the end, she decided to go to the managers. Christine was alone in her dressing room.

She nodded towards Nadir, who was talking to the Raoul. He gave a slight nod in return as she turned to leave.

Nadir put a comforting brown hand on the soldier's shoulder.

"Sometimes, Viscount, the best thing to do is to give a woman her space."

"I just want to make sure she is okay. She looked as if she had seen Satan."

Even though Raoul did not know what happened, Nadir got a déjà vu feeling about his comment. Only Allah knew what Erik had done now.

"I am sure Ms. Daae is just fine. Come. Let's go get some coffee. I'm sure that Christine just needs to be alone and get some rest."

The handsome smooth face brightened as he smiled.

"Okay, I need some coffee. I followed her for three hours. She traveled to her father's house; then, she went to his grave; after that, she came here. I was supposed to pick her up at eleven o' clock for a late night movie for our date."

Nadir took on his fatherly role, and the two men walked to get coffee and talk about women.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside dressing room #103

Christine fell on the bed in hysterical tears. She was terrified. She feared that Erik would hurt Raoul, or worse, he would kill her and Raoul. Reaching for her cross, she did what she usually did when she was afraid: pray to God.

"Father, I am desperate. God, why did I have to be such an idiot? I tried to hide my reaction, but Erik's face was too…too…_horrible_! I am scared that h-he will kill because of me. Help me, God! Help me! Keep Raoul safe, I beg you!"

She then burst into a new set of tears. She began to hyperventilate from her panic, and had to go to the bathroom to wash her face to calm down.

Once she could breathe normal, she laughed sarcastically at herself.

"Well, at least, I am safe here. Erik would not be here with all the people in such a public place."

What she did not know was that Erik was very much there. He had witnessed her hysteria and prayer through a mirror that he could see inside but she could not. It was entirely an accident that he ran into her. He was waiting for Stacia to see what she had uncovered about Buquet. While at his underground home, he redressed his bullet wound.

His heart was shattered, yes, but he still loved Christine. He was so deeply in love with her that he did not know what to do with himself. As he heard what Christine prayed to God, Erik fell to his knee in utter anguish.

It took all of his inner strength not to cry out in agony and rage.

So many times in his life, Erik heard terms: horrible, monstrous, hideous, ugly. He had grown accustomed to it by developing a hard outer shell where no one could penetrate.

Yet, he thought that his lovely Christine was different. For some unknown reason, he believed Christine could see the man he truly was. He believed she could love him _despite_ his ugly face.

How could he have been more wrong!

As tensions for both Christine and the man whose heart she broke ran high, Stacia showed up to the room Erik told her to go.

Hearing a woman's voice, Stacia knocked on the door, confused. When a beautiful and young girl answered, she was taken back.

"Yes, who are you?"

Stacia cleared her throat and tried to keep her face from looking surprised by the swollen and teary-eyed girl.

"Hello, my name is Stacia Manuve. I assume that you are Christine Daae. I am supposed to meet someone in this room."

The girl must have had a bad day because she angrily responded, "Really, that's funny because this is _my_ room, and I don't even know you. You better just leave."

As she attempted to shut the door in her face, Stacia pushed the door open. She knew that she had not misheard what Erik said about meeting her in this room.

The blonde haired singer opened her mouth and emitted a cry of anger.

"How dare you? Who do you think you are?"

Stacia forced her way into the room before turning to Christine and answering her questions.

"I am sorry you are so mad at me. I am FBI agent Stacia Manuve, and I am here at Erik Desslar's request."

Christine was shocked. She did not believe that this woman knew Erik. At the thought of him, she shuddered. How did he get involved with the FBI?

Clearing her throat, Christine spoke back to the agent.

"Well, Ms. Manuve, I suggest that you contact Erik later, and leave my room. I don't trust you."

Out of thin air, a deep melodic voice enveloped the room, leaving the two women speechless from its beauty and depth.

"That will not be necessary, Ms. Daae. I am here to discuss some business with her. I would advise you not to insult her."

The two women inwardly cringed at the voice's antipathy and cruel undertones. Christine noticed a black gaping hole behind Erik where her mirror used to be. Fear and rage clutched her heart at the possibility of Erik eavesdropping at her conversations, watching her when she undressed, or watching her in intimate moments. The idea made her flush and angry at these thoughts.

Erik, in his usual black formal suit and long Italian black trench coat, stood menacingly by the mirror/door with an air of resentment.

Stacia suddenly felt uncomfortable standing between the two of them. Whatever had happened between the two must have ended badly.

"Agent Manuve, please follow me."

With a majestic wave, he extended his arm in a polite gesture to the black opening. Stacia's face must have been apprehensive because Erik assured her that the tunnel was safe.

As she started to go inside the tunnel, Christine tried to reach out and talk to Erik.

"Erik, wait. I n-never meant to hurt you. I a-am sorry, please, let's talk about it. Let's work it out. I need you to be my teacher and guardian. I need you to find my father's murderer."

When Erik refused to acknowledge her entreaties, Christine started to cry and grabbed his arm. Erik immediately tensed with panic; he felt like he was suffocating. The woman he loved was appealing to him, not out of love, but of fear for her lover's life. She did not love him…no one could love him. He was a demon who longed to be an angel, to be loved by an angel.

In the end, he realized that it was only a dream. He could never earn Christine's love, so what was the point in prolonging his pain by talking to the woman who feared him? How could he face his beloved Christine when she feared him?

No, he could not encourage a relationship any longer. He would have his revenge, so he removed her hand and ignored her tears.

Her lower lip quivered and tears poured down her face. Christine felt her heart ache, and she did not know why. It made absolutely no sense to her. How could a man she feared and who angered her cause her heart to break?

She had no idea what her next words to him were, but she later came to regret it.

"So this is it, Erik? You are dumping me just like that. You only used me for your case with her…Do you love her, Erik? Have you said, 'I love you,' to the FBI agent as well?"

Erik tossed his head back and let out a maniacal laugh that caused both women to shrink back in utter fear.

When he looked at Christine, she could not see a facial expression, but his gold eyes glowed with wrath. His melodic voice vanished and morphed into a roaring mass of vehemence.

"I used you! **I** used **you**! You are the one that used me! You used me to get famous! I gave you everything!** EVERYTHING!** You are the one that broke your promise to me! I thought you would be different. I loved you, Christine, and how you have betrayed me! For you to insinuate that I love someone else is absolute rubbish!"

He raised his hand as if he was going to slap her, but instead, he pointed out the room's door and snarled.

"Your lover is worried about you, so why don't you go seek comfort in his arms? He seems to be fond of you, and you don't shy away from his touch. You love him, do you not?"

"Well, at least he's normal and doesn't frighten everyone!"

Christine instantly regretted ever saying the coarse statement. She had said it in defensive anger.

However, Erik did not know that she had done so. His eyes glowed brighter as his entire body shook with murderous rage. He started to pull out the Punjab lasso, and advanced to a quivering Christine.

All he could see was black. Even though he loved her more than life itself, his mind and heart shut off as he let the demons take over. He was so tired of fighting his feelings. He was just so tired of fighting.

Stacia had shrunk in the tunnel in fear, but her FBI instincts overcame her. She was an officer of law, who had been trained for the specific purpose of protecting citizens' lives. Gathering her courage, she snuck behind the glowering Erik in order to incapacitate him, but he spun around and snatched her hair.

Stacia cried out, but stuck to her training. Erik was strong, and she was overpowered. He then snapped his wrist. Suddenly, she could not breathe. The air had just got sucked out of her, and she desperately tried to claw the lasso off her neck as she gasped for air. He was trying to kill her slowly.

Christine was so far into the corner, it appeared as if she were trying to climb the wall. As Stacia's eyes began to glaze over, she saw Christine's poor tear-stained face etched in complete terror.

This was the incentive for Stacia to fight for her life. In a blink of an eye, Stacia's hand lashed out and snatched his mask off.

Two cries intermingled together: one was a cry of rage while the other was a cry of disgust. Erik immediately let go of the lasso, which Stacia pulled off. Taking big gulps of air, she did not feel as light-headed or dizzy.

Christine approached Stacia, in hysterics, and hugged her while Stacia threw the lasso to the side of the sofa. Stacia enclosed her arms around the singer.

"I'm so sorry that I was a jerk to you!"

After she said that, the FBI agent could not understand anything else she said. Stacia's eyes were fixed on the dark huddled figure in the corner. Nothing could be seen except those golden glowing orbs.

When Christine had calmed down, Stacia turned to her and said, "Christine, you need to go home. Get some rest. Speak about this incident to no one, especially the Viscount."

She nodded through tears, and spoke in a trembling voice, "Are you sure I need to leave you alone with-?"

"Yes, I will be fine. Just go!"

Christine thanked her again, and left quietly and quickly through the door. Stacia stared at the closed door for a while before stooping to the ground and picking up the black mask.

Erik stood up, ready to attack if necessary, but she came no further than needed and extended the mask to him.

He graciously accepted it and put it back on his face. Stepping back into the light, he sat down on the divan. Stacia took a seat next to him. It suddenly occurred to her how odd it was that a calm woman was sitting next to the man that almost killed her, but she had never been normal.

Erik's taciturn disposition began to unnerve her, but his masked face turned to stare at her. He flexed his musician's slender hands as he talked to her.

"I do not know what to say, Agent Manuve. You have every right to kill me, yet here you are sitting next to me calmly as if I had not tried to kill you. Why are you not screaming?"

Against her better judgment, she took his pale cold hand into both of her hands and looked him straight into his eyes.

"Agent Desslar, I have read everything there is about you and your file. I knew that you were capable of violence. I knew the risks, and I work in danger everyday. I am not afraid of you, as crazy as that sounds, because I know what you have suffered all your life."

"How could you know of my suffering? You are a beautiful woman whereas I am a monster. How could you understand my pain?"

She whispered more to herself than him. "I understand it a lot better than you think I do."

He looked at her incredulously, but questioned her no further on her comment. He looked down and noticed that her hands looked similar to his own.

"I know this will sound so ridiculous on my part, but I am sorry that I tried to kill you. Had I controlled my temper, I would have never laid a hand on either one of you."

The way he apologized sounded like it hurt him physically to say he was sorry. He must not apologize often. She nodded in acceptance of his apology.

"I do not think that we should go underground with you this upset, so let's go somewhere to discuss the cases. I have uncovered some evidence."

He looked at her, and while she could not see a facial expression, she sensed his trepidation.

"We don't have to go anywhere public; we could go to the rooftop."

He dubiously looked at her.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

He smiled slightly, "No, I just don't understand you. Instead of going to a public place where you'd be more comfortable, you are worried about my comfort…after I almost killed you…"

Stacia put a hand on his tensed shoulder, "Look, Erik, I understand that you were angry and were trying to stop your heart from hurting. Had you been in your right mind, I know you would not have tried to hurt me or Christine."

At the mention of her name, Erik realized the magnitude of what he had done, and put his head in his hands as he mournfully exclaimed, "Oh God, what have I done to Christine? I have to go apologize to her now."

Stacia grabbed his arm before he could dash off.

"No, Erik, you can't go. Give her some time and rest, so she can calm down; then you can face her."

He nodded, and helped her stand on her feet. "Okay, we should meet up with Nadir Khan and compile our evidence and findings. I will call him to tell him to meet us at Starbuck's."

Stacia nodded, and followed him out the door after he closed the mirror.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Who do you think you are? Do you know who I am?" Carlotta screeched at a stagehand that dropped water on her.

She shoved the poor bystander aside as she stormed into the managers' office. Furious by the prospect of Christine Daae, a meager ballet dancer, taking her place in the upcoming production of Carmen, she was going to give the two managers a piece of her mind.

When she entered, she saw that Piangi, Madame Giry, Andre, Firmin, Meg, and Philippe were already in the office talking about the Masquerade.

As soon as she closed the door, all talk ceased while Carlotta thrived on all of the attention.

"What is the reason that you have a little ballet rat playing my lead role in the upcoming opera? Is this way of you insulting me, your great Prima Donna?"

Her voice started out as a hiss, and then it turned into a high pitched shriek towards the end of her tirade.

Everyone in the office, including her pudgy husband, winced at her shout. The managers succumbed to her tirade and then tried to appease the angry singer. Andre, the milder mannered one, took the first step.

"Please, Madame Garibaldi, we only temporarily put Mademoiselle Daae in your stead since you had an unfortunate accident with the croaking."

Her face visibly turned red, and she started to spill out ugly cursing phrases in a Spanish tongue. Her husband suddenly appeared like he was trying to blend in with the wall at her barely coherent cursing yells.

Philippe immediately tried to drown out the woman's outbursts as he poured himself a glass of brandy. To his astonishment, Madame Giry snatched the glass out of his hand and gulped it down.

When she looked at him, he stared at her with his mouth open. She pointed at Carlotta's direction, and he nodded in understanding. As the managers tried to appease the incensed opera singer, Madame Giry and Philippe sipped brandy and conversed about the Party that was the next day.

The managers succeeded in calming the singer down when they promised she would it receive the lead role in Carmen. However, Philippe expressed his distress at that prospect.

"Monsieur Andre and Firmin, are you quite sure that it is wise to give the lead role to Madame Garibaldi since we got specific instructions to give the lead role to Christine?"

Carlotta, Andre, and Firmin all glared at him for his intrusion. Philippe went over to the managers' desk and picked up the letter with red handwriting on it. He normally was not a superstitious man; however, he was an intelligent man who knew a threat when he saw one.

He read the letter aloud:

"_To my dear managers of my Opera House:_

_It has come to my attention that you have allowed the lead role go to Carlotta Garibaldi, that pompous woman. Well, I have been lenient up to this point concerning your disregardful nature when it comes to maintaining my theater. Now, I expect that the lead role go to Mademoiselle Christine Daae in the future production. I will warn you now. If you so choose to ignore my demands, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur._

_Yours truly,_

_O.G._

This is the Opera Ghost's warning."

The managers both laughed as Firmin took the letter and tore it to pieces. Philippe glanced at Madame Giry's face which was blanched in fear. That woman never showed emotion, so when she was scared; Philippe knew he should be as well.

Philippe made mental plans to hire extra security for the Masquerade party the next day as Madame Giry dreaded the potential hazards that Erik would cause because of the managers' stupidity and defiance.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

To take her mind off Erik and her conflicting feelings, Christine wiped the tears off her face and went into a costume shop to retrieve her costume for the Masquerade. When she entered, she shrunk back from the scary looking masks and headed to the back counter.

As she went down an aisle, she bumped into a tall man dressed in black. When he turned around, she cried out in fear from the mask on the man's face. It was an all black mask, with red paint on it in the appearance of blood pouring down it. For Christine, it was the man's eyes that caught her by surprise.

His eyes were a golden hazel, which pierced down into her soul. His voice was deep, but less melodious than Erik's tenor voice.

"I'm sorry that I startled you."

Christine managed a smile at the kind eyes, and stepped past him.

"It's quite fine, Monsieur. I am just here to pick up my costume for the Rennes Masquerade Party tomorrow night."

He smiled a dazzling white smile as the mask remained stoic. He held out his hand which Christine shook.

"I am also attending tomorrow night's gala. I am with security there. My name is William."

Christine smiled back and introduced herself, even though, she did not know that William knew exactly who she was. As Christine picked up her costume, an angel costume, she left the shop. William watched her with rapt eyes, formulating yet another plan. He had a plan that would cause many lives to be affected, both negatively and positively.

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Erik, Nadir, and Stacia sat at the usual table in the dark corner of Starbuck's as the two men listened intently to the new evidence.

"Okay, Mr. Khan, I have created this file of paperwork that I have tracked regarding Buquet. After he murdered Charles Daae, a substantial amount of money went into his account. I traced the money trail to an account owned by Honorable Judge Paul MacLean."

Before she could go any further, Erik dropped his coffee in shock. As the liquid splattered to the floor, both Nadir and Stacia looked at him in wonder. Then, Nadir realized that it was Paul MacLean, Erik's alleged father.

Once he calmed down and motioned for her to continue to tell him and Nadir of her findings.

"Okay, well, Buquet was not hired by Paul because the money that came from Paul's bank account was wired from an untraceable Switzerland bank account. At this time, I do not know whose account wired the money to Paul's account. However, I think Paul is a major player. Perhaps, we should do surveillance of Paul. He is attending the Masquerade Party tomorrow night."

The two men nodded in compliance, and Nadir took over to tell of his discoveries.

"I have compiled this file of Buquet. Whoever hired Joseph has influence in the Opera and also has a lot of wealth. Our men have found that over the past month, Joseph has received at least $30,000 dollars in his account. Someone had to pay to keep his silence and for his services. He kept a low profile out in the city, yet in his apartment, we found letters to him. They were all signed by a D&P, probably initials. We currently are looking out for any suspicious activity. Joseph will likely be replaced soon, so we want to get a head start. D&P have told Joseph they would attend tomorrow night's gala."

After they agreed to do surveillance during the Masquerade, all three of them went to their temporary homes to get ready with their costumes. None of them realized the magnitude of detriment they would suffer the next night.

**A/N: Well, I finally arrived at the Masquerade chapter. I wanted to get to this point all along. I hope that you all are enjoying it. Anyone know who D&P are? They were mentioned only once in the story. A warning: severe violence in the next chapter.**

© Copyright 2005


	14. Chapter 13 Massacre at the Masquerade

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Well, this is the pivotal chapter that starts everything into motion. Lives will be hurt; lives will be lost, and only the strong will be able to stand. Who will win? I figure that I will split this story into two parts. I reckon that Part one will end around chapter 20 or so. Enjoy and R&R!**

**_WARNING: This chapter is rated M for violence and graphic depictions of death and some gore. You have been forewarned!_**

**_Chapter Thirteen- Massacre at the Masquerade_**

The Opera de Rennes was absolutely splendid with fabulous decorations, commotion, and an immense crowd of people in a colorful myriad of costumes. The whole lobby was crammed with people whose anxious exciting talk of the upcoming party filled the entire room. On the marble walls, colorful curtains of silk hung from the tops of the ceilings to the bottom of the floor. Vibrant flower arrangements of red roses, baby's breath, orchids, and tulips lay in the center of each table in the ballroom.

The ballroom was even more stunning; the managers imported marble statues from a famous Italian mason that was surrounded by crystal vases and gold silk. The granite floors were accented by the stucco ceiling that the managers had recently hired a popular painter to paint. Painting the immense ceiling with a blend of white, cream, and tan colors emphasized the statues even more; however, the most spectacular sight was the chandelier.

Weighing at a whopping ton, the chandelier was hand-made with real Austrian crystal and gold during the Victorian era. Andre and Firmin bought it at an auction, and then they hired constructors to build a complex system into the ballroom ceiling that would encompass an entire room with chains and pulleys that would lower or raise the chandelier to and from the ceiling.

People in lively masks were already gathering to their seats in anticipation for the night's festivities. Around seven o' clock, Stacia entered the room and searched for William amidst the crowded area. Searching at all the darks corners, she looked and looked until her sights landed on him.

He stood at a tall height of six foot two and wore an all black tuxedo with silver trimmings on the pant's legs. On his shoulders, an immensely large black cape lay, and should he spread his arms, the cape would resemble two large black wings. His mask was a full-faced black mask with silver trim around the eyes, causing his golden hazel eyes to glow. William epitomized the Dark Angel.

Stacia started forward at the exact time the opera house's orchestra strummed up Chopin and Tchaikovsky's Minuets.

As William turned around, all the breath left him at the sight of his beloved. She wore a full length gown of silver silk and satin. It was shoulder cut, and the gown flowed down from her waist to the floor that left a beautiful trail of silk.

Her long hair was pulled up while a few beautiful tendrils trailed down her back. Her gorgeous green eyes were radiant behind her white mask that sparkled with crystals. She had a silk cape of sparkling glitter on her back. He recognized her costume as a stunning she-elf.

At that moment, William found himself at a loss for words. She approached him tentatively as he pulled her close to him. He breathed into her hair, absorbing her scent. Without her, he would die…in fact, without her; he would have already been dead. She shuttered beneath him.

He leaned into her ear, and whispered huskily, "Love me, my angel. I need your support tonight as my plan unfolds. Erik Desslar will pay with his blood. He will die tonight."

He felt her entire being go rigid. She pulled away from him and looked at him in pure sadness.

"Of course, I love you, William. You complete my soul, and you have my heart. I know what you are thinking, and you are wrong. I do not love Erik, but your revenge will tear us apart."

As she attempted to walk away, he forcefully pulled her to him.

"Stacia, once Erik is gone, we will be free. I have planned this for five years, and it will all end tonight. My life is worth nothing without you in it. Please, just one more night…"

He stared deeply in her eyes, and noticed her tears. The mask concealed the tears' trails, but it still broke his heart. She glanced down before looking back up at him.

"I do not want to think anymore. I just want to enjoy this night, enjoy us. Let's dance."

He smiled briefly in acceptance and took her into his arms once more, and they joined the dancing crowd of ghouls, goblins, knights, clowns, acrobats, and other costumed people.

---------------------Meanwhile----------------------

Around seven thirty o' clock, Christine and Raoul de Chagny entered the party. Christine was quaking in fear at the thought Erik would do something terrible. Although she was frightened, she looked striking in her costume.

She was dressed in a purely white dress of silk and satin. It pooled down to her feet. The strapless dress was decorated with gold stripes that covered her gown. Her mask was purely white with gold trimming around the eyes, nose, and forehead. Her golden and curly hair cascaded down her shoulders and back.

Raoul, himself, looked dazzling in his soldier's uniform and navy blue mask. He gripped Christine closer to him, feeling her fear. His gold ring on his right ring finger glistened; matching the one Christine wore on her neck.

He had proposed to her that they should get married, and she happily agreed. Raoul had set up a romantic dinner up on the Opera House's roof, where she and he danced and talked. He then got on one knee and proposed marriage.

She had told him a nonsense story about a madman named Erik who whisked her away for days at a time, and proclaimed his love for her. She said he was the Angel of Music, and Raoul was worried, at first. He then passed it off as a fabrication on her part so that she would not have to tell him what was really bothering her. She always had an active imagination.

Madame Giry and Meg came to the couple and invited them to their table. Christine's nerves felt slightly better in Antoinette's presence.

Meg was dressed like a cat in a black outfit with a tail while her mother was dressed like a black bird with a feathery mask.

Christine and Raoul took their seats at the table with Meg and her mother, and the conversation ensued. Meg took Christine's facial cue and engaged a conversation with Raoul about his job in the Navy.

Christine turned to Madame Giry, so that the two could talk without everyone else hearing. Madame Giry sensed the girl's fear, and took her hand in hers for comfort.

"Madame Giry, I saw Erik's f-face the o-other night. It was ghastly, b-but I have hurt him so deeply, Madame. He has lost his sanity, and it's my entire fault…so what he does now is because of me. Help me. What do I do? I need to get away from him…before he finds out that I am engaged to Raoul."

Madame Giry gripped her hand, and softly spoke to Christine. She then knew that Christine had seen Erik's face before she spoke.

"Christine, I know Erik has a temper, but he genuinely loves you. He would never hurt you. I will talk to him for you. However, you are right to not tell Erik that you are engaged to the Viscount. Just wait until I speak to him. I promise you that I will not let him hurt you."

Madame Giry felt an immense lump in her throat after she told her that Erik would not hurt her. She knew he would not _intentionally_ harm Christine: he loved her, but if her future marriage sent him over the edge, she was not so sure he wouldn't.

Christine seemed to calm down a lot after Madame's words. When Madame Giry was about the speak more to her, Carlotta and her husband made their grand entrance. Everyone's head whipped around and more than half did a double take when they witnessed the atrocity of a costume that Carlotta was wearing.

She wore a completely tight leather outfit that nearly exposed everything that she did and didn't have. She wore black fish net stockings and high heeled black boots. Some people choked on their wine at such a shocking display. Everyone knew she liked to be center of attention, but this was absolutely ridiculous.

While Carlotta's dominatrix costume stunned the entire room, the managers, Andre and Firmin went over and acceded at her every whim. Her husband, dressed as a ghost, merely stood as her appendage.

Meg and Christine exchanged a look that left them both dying of laughter. Raoul merely shook his head and continued talking with Philippe, adorned in a mime costume, about the family business.

Paul Mclean entered the party, shocked at the sight of the prima donna's outfit, but made his way over to Damien.

It was an odd sight for one to see Paul, a knight, go to converse with his son, Damien who dressed as a leprechaun. However, what was even stranger was the conversation that the two had.

Paul hugged his son, as they sat at the table with managers Andre and Firmin.

Pula spoke first, "I am waiting for Madeline's son to make his appearance. You, my son, are my pride and joy. Yet, I need your help to get rid of Erik Desslar. He is the reason that my wife, your mother died. We need to make him pay."

Damien nodded in approval. His father had named him Damien when his mother had died. He was originally named after her, but Paul found it too painful to let him keep his name. Ever since then, Paul raised Damien to hate Erik Desslar. Somehow, Paul told him that Erik had been involved in the wife's death.

For years, the duo tracked Erik until he reached MI-6 in London, and they ceased their revenge plot. It was too risky to go after an agent. They kept tabs on him until they found out that Erik had been suspended. It was their chance now.

All they had to do was to keep waiting until Agent Desslar arrived in one of his usual grand entrances, and then their plan would be set into motion.

--------------------------At the managers' table-----------------------

Andre and Firmin accidentally bumped into each other in all of the excitement and dancing. They had been socializing and dancing with all the other single ladies before they tired and went back to the table to sit down.

Unfortunately for them, Carlotta and Piangi were sitting down as well (not to mention they were a little tipsy). They were loudly talking and obnoxiously laughing.

Andre had some difficulty sitting down in his Frankenstein costume; however Dracula dressed Firmin helped him settle down. It was odd to see the variety of costumed people at the managers' table: Frankenstein, Dracula, the Dominatrix, and Ghost. As Andre and Firmin flattered Carlotta's "beauty" with their praises, Poligny, one of the previous owners dressed as Viking Leif Erickson, approached the table.

The new managers happily greeted the Viking, and added him to the multitude already at the table.

While the managers' table grew, Nadir finally made his appearance. He dressed in his Iranian police uniform with a simple gold mask. Feeling slightly under the weather, Nadir dreaded what might happen at the result of Erik's hands.

Glimpsing at the dancing crowd, he searched for Erik futilely. However, he found Stacia dancing with a man. When the man spun her, her eyes found his; and he nodded his head to her. She nodded back, and stopped the man. Nadir watched her as she said a few words to him, and then the two kissed deeply.

She gave the man a longing look, as if she did not want to be torn from him, and Nadir's heart painfully flipped in his chest. It was the same look that he had given his wife the night she died. Before he could think any further, Stacia had made her way to him.

They hugged briefly before sitting down at an empty table in the corner of the massive ballroom. As they discussed Erik's possible antics, they failed to notice Christine's suspicious and scrutinizing gaze.

Not only was Christine watching the pair with skepticism, but William was keeping his lover under his observation.

-----------------Meanwhile, again-----------------

The other previous manager, Debienne Tourna, and a companion named Michael entered the party. It was almost comical to see a pirate walking in the gathering with Satan. No one took particular notice of the two as they found an empty table to occupy for the time being.

They relaxed with some glasses of red wine, conversing about the Masquerade decorations and the costumes. Looking around, Michael located the stunning Stacia talking to a "policeman" across the room. The man may have dressed like Satan; however, his soul was darker than any demon. He was a very evil man who worked hard to get what he wanted…at any cost.

William left Stacia briefly to complete the final preparation for his plan when Erik made his appearance.

The entire room stilled in complete shock as Erik stepped forth in all of his grandeur. Dressed in blood red silk robes, satin stockings, shirt, and even shoes, Erik completely silenced the musicians and the crowd. His mask was frightening in and of itself: a horrid skull that looked like drops of blood were appeared like sweat beads. The large red hat added to the horrific sight, and Christine immediately recoiled in her seat, vainly praying Erik would not find her.

Once everyone gathered their wits about them, the music strummed up again, and all was as it once was before Red Death entered the scene. Erik made his way to the managers' table first; Andre and Firmin gaped at the terrifying specter, while Erik smirked beneath the smothering mask.

Pulling a manuscript from his deep silken robes, Erik slammed it down on the table with fierce agitation.

His beautiful voice contorted into a condescending jeer, "My _dear_ managers, it appears that you have ignored the Opera Ghost's warning. Here is his life's work; see it in all of its terrible glory. His orders are simply that you will perform _**his** _work, not _Carmen. _ If you do not follow through, you will pay for it dearly."

The managers, mouths still agape, nodded their heads. They knew better than to object. Carlotta opened her large mouth, but Erik whipped his hand up, and she immediately shut up.

"No, Mrs. Garibaldi, you will not speak, and nor will you be the lead in the Opera Ghost's opera. You will have the role of a silent page boy."

She emitted a cross between a cry of rage and snort of indignation, but Erik had already moved through the multitude towards Christine.

Erik seemed to have impeccable timing because he came right at the time when Count Philippe and Raoul left to converse with security. Meg was dancing with one of the stagehands, while Madame Giry had joined the table with Stacia and Nadir. None were aware the danger that was approaching the young diva, who was sinking further in her seat.

Erik finally made it to the table and callously asked her to dance with him. Before she could say anything, he had yanked her to him, and forcefully danced with her.

Christine had a mixed feeling between dread and an emotion that felt like devotion, yet that made no sense. Her heart had ached for Erik's presence, the presence that did not frighten her. However, his anger radiated from his entire being. Christine closed her eyes as she inhaled his sandalwood scent. What on earth was wrong with her?

She found herself attracted to a murderer, for cripes' sake! Opening her mouth, she tried to tell him how much he meant to her, except that Erik spoke first.

He hissed in her ear with hot and angry breath, "My dear, I came here tonight to only let you know this: I will _never _let you go! I will get rid of anything…._anyone_…that gets in my way!"

Christine shuttered in his arms with fear, yet she tried to reach out to her tormented music teacher.

"Erik, please, no more violence. I never meant to hurt you…"

She quaked with trepidation as he tossed his masked head and let out a maniacally evil laugh that would cause the demons to tremble.

Christine then felt that things were about to get a lot worse.

---------------------In the Meantime----------------------

Nadir and Madame Giry had left Stacia to join the dancing crowd when a masked man approached her.

He was dressed like the devil, and took her hand. Keeping his face from her view, he asked for one dance, and Stacia foolishly agreed.

As they danced, Michael kissed her throat, and restrained her as she tried to leave. Stacia looked into the man's eyes; to her utter horror, she found herself gazing into the eyes of the man that had raped her.

She struggled in vain to run, while he merely laughed at her feeble attempts.

"Ah, my beautiful angel, Fate has brought us together again. This time, I will never let you go. Let us find a more private setting, shall we?"

William returned to the gathering, satisfied that in three minutes his plan would be finalized. All he had to do was to press a gloved finger on the button to release the heavy chandelier from the ceiling as soon as Erik Desslar came into its path.

The dark angel stepped forward to the table and was surprised to find that his beloved was not anywhere to be found. Desperation filled his heart and he scanned the crowd frantically in search of her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he witnessed a woman in distress, trying to claw her way out of a man's arms. William was suddenly filled with panic when he realized that _his_ angel was being dragged away by the monster that raped her so long ago.

He may have not been able to protect her then, but he was not going to let that brute touch her again. William started to sprint forward in homicidal rage when a dancing couple bumped into him, causing him to drop the remote, which the woman's heel stepped on.

William's heart lurched painfully in his chest as he screamed for Stacia. In an instant, everyone, including Erik, Christine, Stacia, Michael, Nadir, and Antoinette, gazed up in horror as the chandelier fell from the ceiling. The chains had been disconnected, and it tumbled to the floor where Michael and Stacia stood.

Michael shoved the agent into the direct path of the falling chandelier as he ran to safety. In a flash, Nadir's police instincts overwhelmed him, and he pulled Stacia to safety as the chandelier made impact with the ground, causing a massive wave of exploding glass to soar into the screaming crowd.

Stacia and Nadir felt some glass tear through the costumes and slice open their backs. Erik pulled Christine into his robes, as a large piece of glass implanted itself in his leg.

Nonetheless, they were the lucky ones. The chandelier glass shards had exploded and pierced the eyes and faces of people at tables. Blood poured everywhere on the ground, on the tables, on the chairs, on the costumes. Some glass had sliced open men's and women's heads, creating ghastly tears where the skull could be seen.

Unfortunately, the remote that had been stepped on was stepped on again, and something else fell from the hole where the chandelier had fallen.

Nadir had pulled Stacia to her feet, both bleeding and injured. Everyone was panicking and trying to escape when two ski masked men burst through the room, and began splaying bullets from two automatic weapons.

William had managed to pull both Stacia and Nadir back to the ground as Erik pulled Christine to a safe room on the side of the staircase. The managers' table had made it to the other safe room with the two previous managers, Philippe, Raoul, Michael, Paul, and Damien, leaving the rest of the crowd to fend for their selves.

The bullets ripped through the terrified mass, immediately killing some while injuring others. Brain matter splattered on the plates of food as blood dripped into the glasses of water, while bodies fell left and right in a true blood bath of corpses.

Stacia quivered in fear as William held her close to him while Nadir had pulled Madame Giry and Meg to him. There was no way for them to defend them selves as the gunmen continued to ensue their bloody massacre. Erik held Christine as she fainted in fright; it was then that he noticed the engagement ring on the necklace she wore.

When the men finished with the weapon fire and escaped, the survivors stood on wary feet to survey the damage.

The color red was everywhere; bodies that were once warm were now becoming cold. Brain matter covered the ground, and the stench of bodily fluids and blood was overwhelming. The people cried in anguish as their loved ones were left without faces, eyes, limbs, or other anatomical parts.

Women fainted as men passed out. No one was going to be the same again. Corpses now littered the once beautiful ballroom. Blank and glassy eyes stared at the ceiling.

Stacia clung to her lover who hid his painful bullet wound from everyone. Nadir managed to save Antoinette and Meg from being killed. He was only slightly injured. Stacia had a grisly glass wound on her back which bled uncontrollably. Her face was losing color as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The entire city's paramedics and half the city's cops entered the massacre scene. Cops and paramedics took injured people in hoards to hospitals and the uninjured ones to the police stations for questioning. As the room slowly emptied, William would not let anyone touch his beloved. Madame Giry finally convinced him to let her treat Stacia.

He reluctantly acquiesced and Madame Giry used a paramedic's kit to clean, suture, and stabilize the wound on her back. Once she was through, William's lover began to develop color in her face. Nadir was treated for minor injuries as Antoinette treated Erik's leg wound. Christine had run to Raoul, the two glad the other was safe and unharmed.

The managers, Carlotta, Piangi, Michael, Debienne, Poligny, Paul, Philippe, Damien, Christine, and Raoul left with the police to be questioned.

Nadir took Madame Giry's statement, so she did not have to go to the police station. Instead, she took Meg home to comfort her.

Erik remained alone and in the corner, watching William with Stacia and Nadir. He was filled with suspicion. When he saw policemen with weapons drawn approaching him, he used an old trick to disappear from their sight.

In the end, only the ones of law enforcement were left. After Stacia was stable enough to leave, Nadir aided William carry her body to the black car. Settling her into the passenger seat, Nadir wished the nameless man luck.

William promised the foreign man that Stacia would be just fine; he would care for her wounds and trauma. Nadir nodded, and watched the man drive off into the cold and silent night, as two red tail lights flickered.

Nadir exhausted and body aching found his car and drove to Madame Giry's house. Erik was missing, meaning the night's massacre was not yet over.

Crime scene technicians had cleared the bloody mess of the room. Evidence filed, corpses taken, and blood taken, the unit scrubbed the place clean before leaving the final piece of evidence in the middle of the floor.

An older corpse lay in the middle of the floor next to the shattered chandelier. The moisture had caused the body to bloat to a blue-ish hue. Bodily fluids had escaped through pores and secreted the body in a powerful rotting stench. Maggots had already devoured the face of the former man, causing holes in the face, and the brain was covered with pests that feasted on the decomposing organ.

The coroner named the time of death, and two men put the reeking body into a body bag as a John Doe.

Thus, the nameless, bloated, and stinking corpse was taken to a shabby morgue where Joseph Buquet's life's story ended.

------------------In William's car------------------

Stacia was sleeping soundly thanks to a pain shot in the passenger seat, as William drove to an apartment he rented for safety. The quiet car gave him time to calm down. It was apparent that other people wanted Desslar dead as well.

William was shocked when he felt something rough wrapped around his throat. Oxygen was cut off to his lungs causing William to gasp for air.

Behind the driver's seat, a skull mask appeared, looking eerie as the street lights flashed over it in intervals. Erik clutched the lasso tighter as he hissed into the unknown man's ear.

"Pull over the car when I say so, or your neck will be broken in less then three seconds. You will do exactly as I say or you will pay with your life."

William's eyes glanced at his sleeping angel, and decided to do exactly as the masked man said for her safety.

Erik was going to find out who this man was and why he tried caused the chandelier's fall. What neither expected was that in the future, more trials would be faced that would cause them to face their past…including the part of their past that included both of them.

**A/N: Well, I suppose I left most readers speechless. I am sorry if this upset anyone, but I did warn you. Please R&R and let me know what you think!**

© Copyright 2005


	15. Chapter 14 The Disturbing Truth

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Currently, there are seven to eight chapters left. The mystery is unfolding, and all answers will be shown. Why did Charles die? Christine returns to help Erik confront William in the next chapter. For those who want William to die…it will not happen. He adds to the tension, but I like your enthusiasm! R&R.**

**Previously on MMM_: Behind the driver's seat, a skull mask appeared, looking eerie as the street lights flashed over it in intervals. Erik clutched the lasso tighter as he hissed into the unknown man's ear._**

"_**Pull over the car when I say so, or your neck will be broken in less then three seconds. You will do exactly as I say or you will pay with your life."**_

_**William's eyes glanced at his sleeping angel, and decided to do exactly as the masked man said for her safety.**_

_**Erik was going to find out who this man was and why he caused the chandelier's fall. What neither expected was that in the future, more trials would be faced that would cause them to face their past…including the part of their past that included both of them.**_

_**Chapter 14- The Disturbing Truth**_

-----Flashback- Five years ago…-----

_In a brightly covered office with blue walls and paintings of flowers that adorned them, a woman in a pin tripe pants suit sat writing down information for the man dressed in a grey suit. This woman had come into a small fortune, and decided to put it into use for a not so good deed. There was two suede chairs in front of the large oak desk and a coffee table on one side. Sheets of paper and a computer were the only commodities on the desk. Yet, the woman looked at the man's credentials before she went further. _

_The man stood near the desk where the beautiful woman sat. He was waiting for orders from this woman. He stared momentarily at the floor, hoping that she would hire him. He desperately needed money, and the police were hot on his trail for another murder that he committed days prior. A man paid him to kill off his ex-lover named Serene Addams, and he finished it. However, he left a glove behind that implicated him in the murder. Now, her crazed brother, William Addams, was after him for his blood for killing his sister._

_The woman looked up at him, after examining his qualifications as an assassin. The woman was relatively young, yet she did have years behind her. Her piercing gold eyes burned their way into his soul as she offered him a seat._

_He sat in the suede chair and answered all of her questions._

"_What is your name?"_

_"My name is unimportant. You do not need my name in order to get what you want done."_

"_Good answer, I like that. Well, my name is Madeline Desslar, and I need your services. I need you to take care of someone for me. He is my son, Erik. Too long has he burdened me and followed me for answers that do not need to be revealed. I need someone who is very experienced in the field, for Erik is incredibly dangerous and is known to murder anyone who stands in his way."_

_The man feared no one and nothing, and replied coolly, "Ma'am, I have over twenty-year experience and have never been caught or seen. All the paper work is extensive at first, but in the end should be destroyed. I was trained by the late Dojo Mi'an Kang, known for his maneuvers that incapacitate and kill others without leaving evidence behind. I surpassed even his skill, and added to it. Now, those who I have eliminated, well, the autopsies always comes back as natural causes. Your son is trivial. I have been trained to succeed, and so I shall."_

_Madeline nodded. She smirked, eerily looking like Erik as an attractive female when she did so. Yet, the man had no idea what he was getting himself into. Madeline nodded and asked more questions._

"_Thank-you, sir, I believe that you are the perfect person for the job. I have no doubt that you will succeed; however, I must warn you that my son is a genius who is ruthless when it comes to mankind, so just do not underestimate Erik. Those who underestimate him always end up dead."_

-----Present- William's car-----

Erik stoically informed William the directions to the place where they would be secluded. It was on a deserted country road where the car finally came to rest. A dense fog swirled around the dark country road only lit by the moonlight and the car's lights. When Erik and William stepped out of the car, the lasso still around the latter's neck; Erik forced him to the shoulder of the gloomy road.

The cold air stilled and then its icy death-chilled fingers gripped the two men to their very souls as the thick trees of the forest stood as an impenetrable wall. Colder was the hatred between the two. Erik's hatred was unbiased, for he did not know who the deuce this man was. Erik felt the bitter icy air through his robes, yet his hunger for knowledge fueled his body with warmth. The man had remained silent, saying nothing the entire way. To Erik's frustration, the man was apparently going to remain taciturn.

"Who are you? Why did you try to kill me, and why is Stacia in your car?"

Silence…

"If you value your life, you will talk. Who are you? I am being lenient with you, but I will get answers tonight even if I have to use torture to do it."

Again, silence…

Erik scowled and pulled the lasso tighter, satisfied when he heard the man sputter and gasp for air. Then, Erik forced the man to look him in the eyes. He was met with a golden hazel stare as the man stared defiantly into his own fiery gold orbs. Erik was momentarily taken back by the opaque depth of the man's gaze.

Nevertheless, Christine's fearful face interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. The man still gasped for air, yet Erik was astounded by the man's impudence. This man who had lost the upper hand remained insolent even in the face of death.

When Erik sighed and removed a syringe from the folds of his red robe, the man spoke for the first time.

"Ah, I see you have resorted to truth serum made up of sodium and other chemicals in order for me to talk. You have changed much since we last met. I am surprised that you do not remember me: you used to possess a long memory. You want to have answers…Don't we all? Feel free to inject me with the serum, but you do not have the right questions to ask. You have no idea how deep this goes, Desslar."

As Erik touched the needle to the man's skin on his neck after forcing the man to his knees, Stacia had stumbled to the spot where a coughing William and an angry Phantom stood. At her presence, Erik hesitated. For a brief minute, the three masked and costumed people stayed silent.

She looked stunning in the moonlight, and William suddenly lost himself in her eyes. Erik remained where he was watching the two communicate an entire conversation with just a stare. She spoke softly, as tears formed in her eyes.

"William, it's over. Please, just tell him. If you love me, then end this madness; too many have died tonight."

Suddenly, the woman tumbled to her knees as her back ached with more pain. Erik felt approval when William lunged to her side unsuccessfully, his body convulsed violently as the lasso snapped his body back to Erik's feet, leaving him with spasms of coughing. So, it appeared this narcissistic man had a weakness.

Stacia was able to lean heavily on the car frame. Erik took notice when the man's shoulders slumped, and he loosened the lasso slightly. The man stood warily on two feet before turning to the masked man.

"For the woman I love, I will end this tonight. You will know who I am and why I have come here."

-----At Madame Giry's home-----

The two sat at the table, sipping tea. They had spent the past three hours tending to a traumatized Meg until she fell into an exhausted sleep. They mulled over the entirety of the events that had transpired until they spontaneously reminisced about Erik and their ever connected past.

Nadir started to talk about the time that Erik left the two to fend for them selves in Russia as he chased after Madeline. Unfortunately, Madeline wormed her way into the Mafia boss's bed in order to get them to help her.

While Erik went gallivanting around Moscow, Nadir and Madame Giry were left to fight off the Mafia boss's men.

"Do you remember, Antoinette, when you took the lead pipe and smacked the faces of the three hit men?"

The two laughed quietly at the memory. Antoinette rarely laughed; pity too, she had a wonderful laugh. Ever since her husband died, she had just lived, and she never truly lived life. She and Nadir had been through the worst together, and they even were once romantically linked.

When Antoinette was two months pregnant with Meg, she suffered from terrible loneliness. Her husband had gone off to active duty in Turkey. She moved to Iran to be closer to him. That was where she met Nadir, and an unlikely friendship formed. Erik, of course, left the two of them so he could meet with intelligence agents regarding his mother's whereabouts.

Nadir showed her all of the good places of his homeland and made her laugh with his horrible talent at juggling. He knew how much she missed her husband, and she helped him forget how much he missed his own wife.

The two shared a night of passion. They never once got to tell the other how much they cared for the other person because Antoinette's husband was let off duty for an injury (which led to his untimely death). The two then moved back to France, leaving a desolate chief of police in their wake.

They never spoke of that one night again, both thinking the other had just moved on. The irony of it all was that the two never forgot that night. They had clung to the happy memory during the rockiest times of their lives: it was their only source of comfort in their grief.

Sitting there and remembering the adventurous periods of their lives, Nadir and Antoinette drew closer to each other for comfort. Nadir held her in his arms, and the two started to drift into a comforting slumber.

However, timing was never perfect for the two because the doorbell rang. Meg never moved; she always slept like a bear in hibernation. Antoinette answered the door to find an unfamiliar foreigner standing there with papers in his arms.

Nadir greeted the man, and introduced him to Antoinette.

"Ah, this is Darius Amman. He is a DNA technological analyst who did the DNA tests for Erik from the sample of the blood that we sent from the glass shard taken out of his leg. It appears he has the test results."

Darius nodded and the three sat down at the table. Spreading the papers out on the table, Darius pointed and explained the gist of the entire test. He then plainly and verbally told his findings.

"When I ran the blood in the DNA system, I found a match with at least seven alleles in common. It appears that the father of Erik Desslar is Michael Tourna."

For Madame Giry and Nadir, it felt like the floor had been sucked from underneath them. Yet, Darius also pulled the background and criminal record of Michael Tourna. Nadir and Antoinette went over it and confirmed some grave notions about Erik's paternity.

-------Christine's House-------

Christine and Raoul sat on the couch, as Christine buried herself in the dashing man's comforting arms. The two had not said anything the entire time they arrived. Raoul was concerned for the woman he loved, but could not find the right words to say. On the other side, Christine's thoughts drifted to a masked man much to her annoyance.

She desperately tried to enjoy Raoul's presence but was finding it impossible. Erik had been injured in the horrible Masquerade night, and she was worried sick. Why did she care so darn much about the masked man? What has he done except bring her repulsion, pain, confusing feelings, and anxiety?

The Lord knows she tried with all her might to will herself to hate him, but she realized she could never hate Erik. Her thoughts swirled inside her head in a myriad of emotion. One particular memory stood out in her mind: the first music lesson with her tormented teacher.

"_Christine, stand in front of me, please."_

_Christine immediately obeyed and she could have melted in his arms when he pulled her back to him. She felt his body pressed against hers; his hands came to her diaphragm._

_His hot breath made her want to collapse. The warm electricity that shot through her scared her. What were these feelings?_

_"Breathe in, Christine."_

_When she inhaled shakily, heart racing, his hands pushed up her sides to show how her diaphragm should lift and fall. _

"_Sing with me, Christine. Sing the part with me."_

_Christine could have died when they sang the part together, their voices and bodies blended together. She was left breathless at the end and she saw Erik was as well._

Christine's cheeks flushed at the memory of how her body molded with Erik's. She never thought about what goes on between a man and woman; however, she was not ignorant. She knew the science behind it. She felt a passionate fire that burned inside of her whenever Erik was near.

She wondered why he pulled away from her that fateful day. He was such an enigma; he was able to be kind and the gentlest man one minute, and then turn into a vengeful monster the next.

Raoul was different. Where Erik was dangerous, Raoul was safe. Where Erik was passionate in all he did, Raoul lacked fervor in much that he did. Yet, she knew she loved Raoul. She knew with all of her heart that they loved each other, while she did not know what she felt for Erik. It was plain that he loved her, but what did she feel for Erik?

As much as she knew she should not, she cared for him deeply. Her thoughts once again strayed to a memory of Erik long ago.

_It was a bitter cold night, and Christine was walking home from the Opera House after the performance of_ **_Peer Gynt_**. _Erik held her arm in his, their hands subconsciously entwined as they ambled down the sidewalk, preoccupied in their thoughts. _

_Though the air was unpleasantly cold, the stars were clearly seen in the night sky. The moon's let off a yellow luminescence that caused Christine's eyes to glow and twinkle while it reflected off Erik's white mask._

_Christine stopped all of the sudden, her gaze extending up to the firmament above them. Erik, too stopped, and asked her what was wrong._

"_Erik, do you mind showing me the constellations?"_

_"Of course not, come here."_

_Holding her in his arms, he took her hand and pointed it up, tracing the stars, whispering in her ear the names of the collection of stars._

"_My dear, up there is Orion's Belt, go over there and you have the planet Venus. A little farther to the right, you can make out a lion. There's a mother bear and her cub…Okay, tell me a shape, an animal, or object, and I will find it in the stars."_

_Christine smiled and breathed in Erik's sandalwood scent. She was intoxicated with this man. Closing her eyes, she named the first thing in her mind._

"_Okay, show me a rose."_

_She felt Erik's hand on her abdomen, and moving her to the left, her body pressed deeply into his as he traced the rose in the sky with their fingers._

_Christine gasped with wonder and amazement. Could this man be more intelligent and attractive? It was times like this that she wished she could see his face, knowing he had to be like the Greek God Adonis._

_She moved away, standing by the park's bench. Erik saw her worried look, and asked her what the matter was. _

"_Oh, it's nothing, Erik. I just wondered what my father thinks of me since he's gone."_

_Erik walked towards her and grasped her hand. Her blue eyes met his gorgeous gold eyes, and Christine felt her knees go weak from the depth that he stared at her. He always made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world._

_"Christine, listen to me when I say that your father is so proud of the woman that you have become. There is no doubt in my mind that he is watching over you now."_

_Christine smiled broadly, "Thank-you, Erik, your words mean the world to me. Erik?"_

_He stared at the skies momentarily before he wistfully responded. "Yes, Christine, what is it?"_

_She approached him slowly and softly, and pulled him in her arms. Smiling to herself, she felt his heart race thunderously in his chest. She knew that he was not accustomed to physical contact, but she needed him to know how much he meant to her._

"_I wanted you to know that I love you, Erik."_

_Christine could have sworn that Erik's heart stopped beating for that moment in time. Erik's head immediately felt as if air sucked out of it and his knees fell out beneath him. Christine managed to keep him from making contact with the concrete._

_He pulled her in his arms, breathing in her scent, wanting to make the moment last forever. His lips went to her ear, whispering earnestly and frantically, "I love you, Christine. I need you in my life…I need you so much. Please, don't ever leave me…I would die without you."_

_Christine stroked his mask, yearning to touch his face, but she knew that she could not remove his mask. It would break his faith in her. Their lips were mere centimeters apart before Erik pulled away._

_For Erik, it felt like half his body had been ripped apart. How he longed to kiss her, to take her in his arms and tell her how much he wanted her. However, he knew that she thought he was gorgeous underneath the mask, and he could not do it to her. _

_Christine stood wearily, tears pouring down her face. _

"_Erik, what's wrong? Have I done something wrong?"_

_Erik turned, and spoke with such agony that Christine, amidst her confusion, wanted to comfort him._

_"Oh, heavens no, my angel. You have done me no ill. I just…we just…we can't…"_

_Erik covered his eyes with his hand and sucked in a sob, leaving a dull ache in his chest. Christine, baffled, did and said nothing as they walked to Christine's home in utter silence._

As the memory faded, Christine found herself inwardly crying out for Erik. She understood now why he pulled away. He was doing it to protect her and himself. He was scared that she would remove the mask and not love him anymore. Well, his fear became a reality. How could she be so cruel to him when all he did, he did in her best interest. How more selfish could she have been?

It was too late for her to change what she had done. All that she could do was to look forward and try to do good by her actions. Maybe Erik would forgive her in time.

She noticed that Raoul held her close to him, and she drew closer to him. She loved Raoul. That was fact, and she would marry him.

Raoul, as if reading her thoughts, brought up the topic of marriage. Christine found herself agreeing anything he said. It was settled. They would be married in early spring at the local Chapel with at least one hundred guests in attendance. Philippe said that he would do well by his brother and pay for the entire ceremony.

Yet, with all of the talk of weddings and happy times, Christine found herself drifting to thoughts of Erik. She felt so guilty for hurting him. She urgently needed to see him to make amends for her actions. It was the only way she could move on with her life and marry Raoul, giving him her whole heart.

---------In a deserted warehouse on the other side of the city--------

Damien, young and strong, pulled the bodies of the two masked men that killed many people from the Masquerade. Their end had been swift and painless: a bullet in each head.

Paul watched from afar, admiring his son's tenacity and strength. His son would help him end the crazed masked man's reign of terror. Erik Desslar had to be dealt with, and they could not risk being caught.

In essence, they could not keep any witnesses or people who could turn them in to the cops. Besides, who would believe a criminal indicting a prestigious judge of murder and other horrific crimes?

After Damien shoved the bodies into an air shaft, the pair left the warehouse inconspicuously.

---------The Managers' Office--------

Andre and Firmin bother paced the office room for the past hour, full of anxiety and despair. Andre, the milder mannered one, kept repeating that the two were ruined. The opera house would be condemned.

Firmin, a man of business, viewed any gossip or drama was good publicity. People would come from all over to attend the Opera House that held a massive massacre. The previous managers were in the office with Andre and Firmin.

With much persuasion and influence, Debienne and Poligny convinced the managers to perform Don Juan Triumphant.

They agreed, albeit, reluctantly.

**Author's Note: Yes, I realize this chapter is somewhat shorter than my usual. I tried to get it out faster. I hope you enjoyed the R/C and E/C moments. A little fluffiness does not hurt every once and a while. Next chapter: the confrontation chapter. Answers will be revealed. I hope you enjoyed!**

© Copyright 2005


	16. Chapter 15 Conflicts and Confrontations

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. They made me happy. In this chapter, Erik gets answers as Christine arrives to help him confront his past. Erik's paternity shows up with some horrific news. MORE ERIK/CHRISTINE DRAMA NEXT CHAPTER!**

_**Chapter Fifteen- Conflicts and Confrontations**_

-------Flashback- William's Past-------

_Mikhail Addams was born in Vladivostok, Russia, to Russian diplomats. They moved with the American Embassy to the United States with young Mikhail. Mikhail, although he came from rich roots, wanted to become a self-made man, and it was not long before he turned to the criminal way of life to accomplish that feat. He possessed striking hazel eyes and golden waves of hair._

_When he turned eighteen, he returned to his homeland to pursue some not so innocent undertakings. His high intellect and charisma aided in his quick rise in the ranks of the Russian Mafia organization, and he enjoyed illicit success for a number of years before he met a beautiful American woman, Clarissa Dumont. _

_She was a smart and stubborn woman, who often challenged Mikhail on his advances. With Mikhail's charming disposition and dazzling looks, it was not long before Clarissa fell under his spell._

_They were married in early fall. Not long after their blissful marriage ceremony, Clarissa Addams became pregnant with a son, the pride of his father. When their first child, a boy, was born, the happy parents named him after Clarissa's father, William Dumont._

_When the young boy reached five years old, the parents expected another child, this time a girl. During the difficult pregnancy, Mikhail's business associates thought that this was the opportune time to strike._

_A car bomb nearly killed the pregnant Clarissa and her son; Mikhail was forced to divorce the woman he loved in order to keep his loved ones safe. When the little girl was born, the parents named her Serene because she brought them peace._

_Mikhail and Clarissa raised their children together in peace, even though they were separated. Both moved on to marry other people, but those people never possessed the two's hearts._

_Serene, unlike her stable brother, had led a rough life filled with drugs, sex, and abusive boyfriends. One of her abusive lovers hired the assassin to kill her because in an attempt to straighten her life out, Serene was going to testify against her ex-lover that could put him away for life._

_She was brutally murdered, leaving a devastated Mikhail and brother William. Clarissa, so distraught with the loss of her little girl, committed suicide. Mikhail turned back to his origins: the Mafia, and once again rose the ranks._

_His son, raised to be whomever he wanted, decided to work for the other side of the law. He was accustomed to seeing the violence the wrong side of the law caused, and he wanted to help people: to help the victims on the right side of the law._

_Upset by his sister's murder, Mikhail called William to meet him. When William met with his father, Mikhail called out to his son's sense of duty and loyalty. They agreed that justice needed to be done for the murder of his sister._

_William felt an incredible amount of guilt over his sister's murder, having promised her at one time that he would always protect her and be there for her._

_His father handed him the name of the man who was hired to kill Serene. William, as a last testament to the sister he loved he would kill the man who killed her and fulfill his promise to his sister. He would get her rightful justice._

----Back to the Present----

Erik, still suspicious, pulled out his standard PP7, which made Stacia's face blanch. He assured her that he would not hurt either one of them as long as neither tried to do anything risky. Both Stacia and William moved to sit on the hood of the car before William decided to tell the masked man the truth.

Erik stood in front of the two lovers, ignoring the bitter wind that nipped at his body in full force. Anxiety gripped his heart, fearing what the consequences of what this man would say. Before the man could speak, Erik pulled his cell phone out and called Christine.

"Christine, I need you to meet me at Jonas Avenue where it meets Hilliard Boulevard. There is something you should know…that is if you wish to help me?"

"Of course, Erik; I have been so worried about you. I am so glad you are okay. I will be there as soon as possible."

After he hung up the phone, Erik glanced at the listless man and his nervous girlfriend. He motioned his hand in order to signal the man to tell his story.

William took a deep breath, and with one glance at Stacia, he gathered the courage and told Erik everything, "My name is William Addams. I was once an agent for the CIA for the United States government. I was trained to rid the country of scum and threats like terrorists, serial murderers, and some mob affiliates."

Erik did not recognize what the man's connection to his past, but he did recognize why the man wanted to kill him. William Addams once aided Erik in a case involving mob members trying to ship cocaine between countries.

Other than that official case, the two never made contact or talked since that time, so Erik was perplexed as to why this man hated him.

"Though you do not know of me and will not see the relevance, but my sister was murdered by a hired assassin. This same assassin was hired by your mother, Madeline. How do I know? Well, my father has 'connections,' and he retrieved everything anyone needs to know about this hit man."

Erik remembered that rather tumultuous time in his life, the time when he had to run for his life. However, the assassin was dead, and Erik was the one who took care of him.

"My sister never had a fair chance in life, and I wanted to bring her justice since life had been awfully unfair to her. I promised her and my father that I would seek revenge and kill the man who took the life of my sister. The night of May 23rd may not stand out to you, but it does to me. This particular night, I arranged a meeting with this man to 'hire' him. He and I would meet at this certain warehouse. When I finally would get the chance to get my revenge, the warehouse suddenly blew up, killing the wretch."

Erik immediately remembered that night so long ago. He had trailed the same assassin after Nadir confirmed reports that this man was hired by Madeline to eliminate the masked man. After learning the man would meet with a presumed associate at a warehouse, Erik wired the entire structure to explode. It all made sense to him now.

The associate the hit man was supposed to meet was actually William Addams, who was going to kill him. So, because Erik took his right to justice away, William sought revenge by trying to kill Erik.

Although, it made absolute sense to him, Erik felt that this man was not telling him everything. He wanted to see the man's face. It was the only way for Erik to see the whole truth; to look at the man's eyes and facial expressions was the only method Erik needed to see the man's honesty.

"Mr. Addams, take off your mask. Let me see your face."

Erik noticed Stacia's face immediately pale and eyes go wide, obviously panicked by that prospect. Even though he detected her fear, he ignored it and looked at William, who had not moved an inch. His eyes showed no emotion, just gleamed in the moonlight, and Erik remained where he was to stare stoically back at the defiant masked man.

The masked man looked him over and took notice of the man's appearance. He was obviously muscled and toned. He looked quite handsome, much to Erik's disgruntlement, and Erik could understand why Stacia was with him. The man was quite intelligent, although his impudent behavior irked Erik to no end.

Sighing heavily, he responded, "Very well, I will do as you wish, Agent Desslar."

With his hand on the mask, he started to lift it off his face.

-----At Madame Giry's house----

After Darius left, Madame Giry and Nadir Khan looked over all of the compiled evidence: the letter, the DNA test, Madeline's background portfolio. On her death bed when Madeline said, "I never told Erik about his real father;" it now made sense to Antoinette.

For at least an hour and a half, the two went through all of the evidence until Darius arrived back to the house with the file about everything on Michael Tourna.

Meg had packed up her things and traveled to Italy to get away from what happened. She was staying with her cousins in Naples as she was sent by Antoinette until the mystery is solved. Nadir had one of his men drop her off at the airport earlier that morning.

It was mid-afternoon when Darius Amman started to explicate the entire history of Erik's paternity.

Spreading out the documents on the small coffee table, Nadir and Madame Giry both took turns reading the papers, written in a systematic format.

**Name: _Michael_ _Tourna_**

**Age: _50_**

**Sex: _Male_**

**Weight: _185 lbs_**

**Height:_ 6' 1"_**

**Eye Color: _Brown_**

**Hair Color: _Blonde_**

**Summary of crimes:**

**Misdemeanors: _1991- Indicted and charged with drug possession; 1993- petty theft; 1994- attempted burglary; 1995- Drug possession; 1997- attempt to car jack; 1999- possession of stolen property_**

**Felonies: _1992- Charged and acquitted of murder; 1994- charged of murder (declared mistrial); 1996- Embezzlement and fraud (acquitted); 1998- Loan sharking charge (dropped); 1999- Charged with rape of Stacia Manuve (case dropped); 2000- Rape charge (mistrial)_**

**There are more charges and extensive court summaries enclosed. More summaries are available at the Anderson Courthouse: the address is located on all of the documentation of above said court proceedings.**

Nadir felt as if some horrendous force sucked the air from his lungs when he realized the magnitude of violence Erik's father was capable. What was worse was the fact that neither Erik nor Stacia knew that Erik's father, Michael, was the man who viciously raped Stacia.

Madame Giry became immediately concerned; Erik would not handle the truth well. Nadir and Antoinette agreed that they should not tell the temperamental masked man the truth yet. They needed to know more, the whole truth, before they told Erik all that they had found.

Darius remained where he was, as the trio defined each case, and found something peculiar. Every felony case in which he was charged with a violent crime, the result was either a consented acquittal, dropped case, or declared a mistrial.

It was impossible for a man, who committed that many crimes, was not guilty of at least one of them. Someone was obviously 'helping' Michael Tourna, and the sooner that Antoinette and Nadir discovered the legitimate claims around Michael's past, the better.

-----Back to Christine and Raoul-----

Christine was worried about how she would tell Raoul that she needed to meet Erik; however Philippe called him, luckily. His brother informed him that the entire de Chagny clan was meeting at the pricy restaurant _Le Ponte_ downtown to discuss the business and funds.

Clearly, Raoul did not wish to go and leave the woman he adored behind, but at her insistence, he decided to help his brother beat back the greedy relatives. Christine got dressed in black pants, a pink sweater, and red scarf. She put on her new black leather coat (which Raoul bought her as an early wedding gift). Once she retrieved her purse and all her things, she left.

-----William, Stacia, and Erik-----

She was floating with the stars, her wings spread out into the sky. She breathed in the earth's musty scent, filling her lungs with its life. At that moment, a dark shadow passed over her, stripping her wings from her body. The wings gone, she tumbled to the ground from the firmament above.

The 'she' as stated above was Stacia's heart. This was the moment she would never forget, the moment that the man she loved was being stripped to nothing in front of her eyes. Her heart tumbled as William removed the mask.

Erik stumbled back, as if his body had been set on fire, at the sight of the man's face. No, it could not be…there was no possible way…

Erik found himself staring into an exact replica of his own face. William's entire face was a mottled mass of sickly flesh. Although, he had a nose where Erik had not, this man's nose seemed as if fire had melted it. His cheeks' flesh looked like the flesh had been ripped off and poorly put back on, so white and dead looking.

His eyes were sunken in, with black flesh surrounding the eyeballs. Scar tissue splotched his forehead, indicating that he underwent several unsuccessful surgeries in his past. Erik saw this man's deformity as if the man's face was his own reflection. How?

Nothing made sense to Erik. How could this man have a similar looking deformity as himself? Turning his eyes to the woman, Erik found her in tears. When William made the slightest of movements, Erik gained his wits about him and aimed the gun at the man's head.

"Don't move, Addams. We are not through. I want to know what the hell is going on here! What happened to your face?"

"Think about it, Desslar. I have this obliterated face for a reason. My face is not the only place that has suffered damage. I also have burns on my entire body. When you blew up the warehouse, **_I was also in it_**! Not only did you kill the assassin, you also nearly killed me as well! You have no one to blame for me coming after you but yourself! My pitiful face and sorry scars are your fault! I suffered such great agony in the fire as I felt the skin on my face literally melt off the bone…my skull. Luckily or not, the firefighter pulled me to safety. As you can see, the surgeries helped repair some damage, but I still am as hideous as you. You have caused someone else to **_bear your_** fate!"

William was able to calm down; however, Stacia, his darling, was in hysterics, obviously reliving the memory. Erik stood rigidly still as his mind tried to comprehend all of this history and information. Even for his brilliant mind, he was too stupefied for words.

William pulled his beloved in his arms, rocking her from side to side, calming her down. He merely glanced at Erik and continued to quiet his crying lover until she relaxed into tranquility.

Breathing several unsteady breaths, the pretty woman rotated on her heel to face Erik, and taking off her mask, Erik's heart skipped a beat at her tear-stained pained face. Her eyes bore into his own, silently begging him to give her a chance to speak.

"So, I suppose Agent Manuve, that you aided your lover here in his endeavor to kill me. All of your kindness, words, and advice were all lies."

Wringing her hands together and undoing them in a fit of fretfulness, Stacia's green eyes flitted from Erik to William and back again before she spoke, "No, I n-never tried to h-help William kill you. In f-fact, I tried to stop him…several times."

Erik rolled his eyes in skepticism, and breathed heavily through his mouth out of annoyance. He saw the truth in her eyes, but he felt unsure as to whether to listen to her or not. Christine would be there any moment, and he needed to hear everything. Christine needed to hear the reason why the massacre happened. She needed to know why her father died.

In the end, he decided to consider her side of the story. William did not look the least bit apprehensive about her speaking.

While Stacia began to speak, William was thrown back into a memory of when his father first learned that he was dating Stacia.

"_You cannot be seen with her, Wilhelm, my son. It is not right; she is an American. My business cannot take the image, and if you marry her, then you will not be able to run the business. The family will disown you."_

_William, young and defiant even back then, stood his ground with Mikhail. Stacia cowered in the corner, shaking. There was no way William would surrender his heart in order to please his father…or anyone else for that matter._

_"Father, you will not stop me from being with her. As much as you want, you cannot control who I love. You cannot prevent me from marrying the woman I love. Stacia is a good woman and I intend to be with her, regardless, of your acceptance. And if you cannot accept my decision, then you will have to live with it because I will not spend my life regretting a decision that you forced me to make."_

_Stacia smiled, falling more and more in love with this man. As much as she hated the fact that William would rebel against his father to be with her, she admired his tenacity._

_Mikhail glared at her; she shrunk under his scrutinizing gaze while William went to her side. Pulling her to his body, she melted in his embrace. He moved them in such a way that Mikhail was staring into the angry, yet placid countenance of his handsome son, William._

"_Father, I never intended to take on the family business. I have not the skill to run the family and its business, so there is nothing to talk about. This woman saved my life and loved me despite my flaws. She had no influence in my decision to leave the family. I need to find my own place in this world, and I want her beside me. In all of my life, I have dealt with the violence, and the only thing that has made sense out of it is this woman. You went through hell and back for mother, so why should I be any different; I am of your blood."_

_Stacia beamed when she gazed up into William's flawless face. His bronze skin accentuated his golden hazel eyes. His small but lustrous lips extended upwards, showing off his dazzling white teeth in a stunning smile as he gazed back down on her._

_Leaning down he kissed her deeply, much to Mikhail's disappointment. However, when William returned his gaze to Mikhail, the mafia boss knew that he was fighting a battle already lost. His son definitely had his heart and Mikhail was filled with delight for his son who acted so much like himself, so he let his heart ruled over his will. He relinquished his quest to break them apart. _

"_My son, you have my blessing. You have convinced me not to be a hypocrite: how could I deny you the woman you love when I refused to deny myself of the same thing? Go and be happy. If ever you need anything…anything at all, I will always be here."_

_Stacia smiled so wide that Mikhail saw his own love, Clarissa, in her eyes, and knew he made the right decision. William was thrilled that he got through to his father: he would spend the rest of his days with Stacia. They would have a wonderful and happy life together. William laughed, taking her in his arms, spinning her around in the air as they both kissed and laughed some more while they both dreamed of their blissful future together._

A single tear fell down William's unpleasantly rough skin, thinking to his self, '_We used to be so happy then. What happened to us?_' He then looked at the masked man, Erik Desslar, who destroyed his life. _He_ was the reason that they were in turmoil. _He_ was the reason that they did not have the happiness they fought so hard to obtain.

William didn't care that he would die, but he cared everything about Stacia. She deserved so much more in life than she had went through. He would not let anything bad happen to her that he could prevent, so he enclosed his arms around her that conveyed a silent message that he was there to protect her and love her. He kissed her temple, as her body immediately reacted to his embrace, ceasing its shaking. Stacia found his courage and made it her own.

She started to tell her tale to Erik about her connection to William.

"I met William it seems like ages ago…."

"I was young and stupid. I worked at this certain restaurant in my hometown of Ripley, Tennessee when I first saw William. He and his father met at the place I worked at frequently, and I was their waitress. His father paid me well to keep quiet about their meetings; however, some of his father's enemies found out where they were hiding. They came to the restaurant with guns drawn, and before they put a gun to my head to force me to tell them where I saw William and his father, the FBI stormed in and arrested them."

Stacia stopped momentarily when she saw a look of pain flash through her lover's burned face, but she continued when Erik nudged her side with his gun.

"Continue your story."

Stacia inhaled sharply through her nostrils, and spoke again, "I was taken in to the FBI office that was in Tennessee Bureau of Investigation building for questioning. To my surprise when I was waiting for the interrogator, William walked in the room. He told me that I was under his guard in the Witness Protection Program. You see, William and his father were meeting at the restaurant because they needed an unknown person, a decoy to trick their enemies. They were trying to transfer some miscellaneous evidence to the Federal government that would put a number of Mikhail Addams' enemies in prison. They were desperately seeking to kill Mikhail and retrieve the evidence; consequently, they found out that I was the anonymous person that was set to turn the paperwork in to the FBI."

Stacia stopped again, at a wave of Erik's hand. His cell phone was ringing, and he answered it. While he told Christine precise decorations to the place where they all were, William's gasps of pain began to worry Stacia. She had no idea that the man she adored was suffering the beginning signs of toxicity from his bullet wound.

When Erik returned to them, he informed them.

"Okay, I need you to sum up your story. Christine will be here any moment, and I need all of the information in order to summarize everything back to her."

Stacia nodded, and quickly finished, "Well, I got up and moved with William around the globe to hide from the Russian thugs until the case against them went to trial. We hated each other at first; it was when I was raped that everything changed. Michael Tourna viciously raped me, and it was William who helped me heal and move on. While I physically and emotionally recuperated from the horrific time in my life, William was always there. It was annoying to me, to have him everywhere. I was never once out of his sight. At his encouragement, I got extra schooling and trained as a FBI agent, and we became partners. We were engaged to be married when he nearly died in the warehouse fire…"

Erik nodded, mentally taking in her story, as he noticed the man slowly draining stamina, as his eyes glazed over, sweat appeared on his forehead, and his fists opened and closed. He was fighting something like an injury or an unknown pain.

A sudden flash of incandescent lights shone on them as Christine's car stopped next to the William's motionless one. Christine stepped out, and Erik's heart lurched painfully in his chest at the sight of such a beautiful creature of God. Oh, how he loved her! She smiled at Erik, and approached his side, while casting a sideways glance at Stacia and the man whose face she could not see.

As soon as the clouds lifted from the moon and light shed on the face of William, Christine's face contorted to one of repugnance. She let out a horrified screech before the whites of her eyes were seen as her eyes rolled up into her head; the oxygen was slowly cut off to her brain, and it caused her to faint.

Serendipitously, Erik's quick reflexes allowed him to catch her in his arms before she made contact with the pavement of the desolate road.

**Author's Note: I struggled to make this chapter long, the usual length. Hopefully, this was okay. I hope you liked this chapter. I bet I sucked the floor from your feet at William's face. You probably did not expect that plot twist! Next chapter, I promise more Erik/Christine action. He confronts her about her engagement to Raoul. Also, there are about six chapters left!**

'© Copyright 2005


	17. Chapter 16 Misery Loves Lovers' Company

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. I am glad that people like this story. I would like to dedicate this story to my Phantom friend JustBFree (wink read her stories). In this chapter, Erik and Christine team up and confront the couple. More of the mystery unfolds. R&R please!**

_**Previously on MMM: **_

_As soon as the clouds lifted from the moon and light shed on the face of William, Christine's face contorted to one of repugnance. She let out a horrified screech before the whites of her eyes were seen, her eyes rolled up into her head; the oxygen was slowly cut off to her brain, and she fainted._

_Serendipitously, Erik's quick reflexes allowed him to catch her in his arms before she made contact with the pavement of the desolate road._

**_Chapter Sixteen- Misery Loves Lovers' Company_**

William protectively held Stacia in his arms while she closed her eyes, enveloped his scent. He felt his body start to develop a feverish burn, sweat forming on his forehead. He was used to the looks of repulsion; as long as Stacia was in his life, then he could take on a million of those looks.

As Erik held the woman he loved in his arms, tenderly rousing her from her unconscious state, William knew that he could have escaped from the masked man if he were alone; but with Stacia's life depending on him, he would not try to attempt to flee with her.

Soft moans erupted from the young woman in Erik's arms that signaled Christine's return to the real world. Her blue eyes fluttered open to Erik's masked face in hers. His sandalwood scent immediately engulfed her senses, calming her spirits. Her small pale hand caressed the cold plastic skull mask. His eyes lit up in the moonlight with relief that she was fine.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Christine, I am right here. It's okay."

With his strong arms, he helped Christine to her feet as she surveyed her surroundings, while only casting a fleeting glance in William's directions. Once she was comfortable with seeing his mottled face, she stood by Erik's side.

During the ten minutes, Erik caught Christine up to speed with all that had transpired from the assassin to the Masquerade when William cut the ropes.

Christine turned her angry eyes to the CIA agent and lit into him with a massive wave of anger.

"How could you cut the ropes and kill innocent people! Why did you endanger the woman you claim to love?"

Stacia's heart felt as if it dropped from her chest as she sensed William's entire body tense with fury. His deep voice bellowed in the serene night as a lion roars all of the sudden when threatened.

"Don't you **_dare_** question my love for Stacia! I love her with _all_ of my _soul_! What do you know of me? Who gave you the right to be the righteous judge!"

Erik shoved the front of the pistol into the man's throat near the jugular vein while the man's face remained impenetrable. His eyes leveled with the masked man's fiery gold ones in a defiant gesture. Erik was growing weary of the man's insolence, and had it not been for the FBI agent, this man would have been dead.

"Do _not_ speak to Ms. Daae that way, Addams, or I will blow your jugular to pieces! If you feel inclined to anger, you have only _yourself_ to be angry with…"

Stacia sighed with relief as Erik removed the gun from William's neck. Christine, too, let out a deep breath; she was not accustomed to anger, violence, and guns.

"Can I speak, Agent Desslar?"

Erik turned his gaze to the woman in William's arms that shook like leaf not only from cold but also fear for this man's life. Christine glared at this agent, suspicious of her motives and movements while she tentatively pulled out of William's arms to approach Erik.

"I have no qualms with you, Stacia…Feel free to speak your mind."

"Do you remember the day when you almost strangled me to death…?"

Stacia stopped when William emitted a cry of rage and lunged to Erik, who smashed the butt of his gun on the man's head. Christine's mouth opened in horror as the man fell motionless on the pavement while Stacia screamed as blood gushed out of her lover's head onto the cold asphalt.

Pointing the gun at Stacia, Erik spoke softly. "Please continue your story. You have my interest, and yes, I do remember."

Stacia's body shook even more, scared to death that William was dying, but she had to get through to Erik to save both their lives.

"D-do you recall when you asked me how I could understand your pain? I said that I understood more than you think. Look at him, Erik. He's defeated…he's lost all his resolve and thirst for revenge. There is no point in prolonging this. Please, I swear on my heart that if you let us go, this will be the last time you see either of us. If you kill us then you will not only have whoever else is trying to kill you, but you will also have the FBI and CIA after you…"

Christine stepped forward and slapped the FBI agent's face. Erik pulled her back delicately before he came within two inches of Stacia's face before he whispered venomously.

"Do you honestly think that by appealing to my emotions that it will save your or your lover's life? You are horribly mistaken; since the only reason you were kind to me is because you were helping your lover try and kill me."

Stacia shook her head, but Erik gripped both sides of her face with both his hands, forcing her to stop. He stroked her tears off her cheeks before he brutally shoved her to the side of the road, and Stacia stood up, holding her injured arm.

She took a risk by speaking to him again while Christine watched on a few feet away, gaping at the immobile form on the road.

"Erik, listen to me. Why would I help you with your case? If I wanted to help William kill you, then all I had to do was schedule a meeting between us and have William ambush you. Or when you were strangling me, I could have told William or have killed you myself, but I didn't."

Erik's mind began to race as seeds of doubt began to sprout. He had every file on this agent, and nothing…absolutely nothing…pointed out any thing derogatory about her past. She was never convicted of a crime, and she was a Christian. It was obvious by her philanthropic actions, she had morals. Yet, he knew that he could not let his guard down, not even once.

Before he could interrogate her further, William's form let out muffled groans, as he sat on his knees and pressed his two fingers to the wound on his forehead which was bloodied. His eyes widened and closed as he tried to survey his environment.

It was like lightning coursed through his body and in an instant, his head shot up, looking for Stacia. He found her holding her arm, as if she were injured, and when he saw the blood drip through her fingers, he stood up quickly. He called out to Stacia, whose face lit up, and they fell in each other's arms. William kissed her over and over again, murmuring that everything would be fine.

Erik looked at him, bemused by the spectacle. While he appeared apathetic to the lovers' display on the outside, he felt touched on the inside. He desperately craved that kind of love and attention. He wanted to share that deep kind of love with Christine.

William kissed her arm tenderly, and then turned to face Erik. His body was aching, his posture sagged with pain, his muscles were tired, and his head throbbed. He needed to end this, for Stacia's sake. This man had ruined enough of his life; he would not allow him to ruin his love with his sweetheart.

"Desslar, you will **_not_** treat Stacia that way. She had nothing to do with my vendetta against you; she was correct when she stated that she tried to stop me. She saved your life so many times, so you better treat her with respect."

Erik pressed the gun to William's face.

"And what will you do if I do not?"

William sighed before he exploded.

"Oh, bloody hell, Desslar! If you plan to kill me, then do it: just leave Stacia out of this! The only thing she is guilty of is that she loves me."

Christine paled when William broke out in a coughing spell. Erik opened his mouth to speak, but William beat him to it.

"I swear on my love for that woman that I have no energy to seek revenge. It's over, Desslar."

Erik smirked, "Oh, and why should I believe you?"

William sighed and lowered his voice to a malicious whisper.

"You should believe me because you have more heinous things to worry about like the two men who shot up the entire Masquerade party filled with innocent people."

"How do I know that you did not hire those two men to try and kill me?"

"Because you arrogant jerk, why would I hire two men to do what I have longed to see happen: you dead? I am through. Stacia is more important to me than my hatred for you."

Erik realized the man was being truthful, much to the masked man's chagrin. Christine, however, was not through confronting the FBI agent.

"You are a treacherous excuse for a woman, how dare you use Erik!"

Stacia whirled around to face her, and shouted, "Me! ME! I am not the one using him to get famous! You are the one that is a pitiful excuse of a woman…You are too blind to see this decent man who would do anything in the world for you…who loves you more than anything in this world! How dare _you _accuse me of being treacherous! Hello, pot, meet kettle."

Christine shrunk back while both Erik and William looked at Stacia in complete shock. Erik was shocked that she defended him after all the hurt he inflicted on her. William was shocked that she defended the man who ruined not only his face, but their bright future together. His heart ached with the sting of betrayal.

Erik cleared his throat, and quietly suggested to Christine that they leave because people would be noticing her absence. It was almost six in the morning, and rehearsal for _Don Juan_ would begin soon.

William grew weaker by the second and was relieved when the flash of lights receded away from his vehicle and faded in the night. When the rear of Christine's car could not be seen, William collapsed with his back sitting on the front of the car.

Stacia slid down beside him, gripping his hand tightly in hers as she brought their entwined hands to her chest. Her thundering heart beat against the back of his hand, keeping him in reality.

As the sunlight ascended the now royal blue sky, Stacia saw how terrible William looked and probably felt. His other hand pressed against his abdomen, as his face crumpled in pain again.

"Darling, what's wrong?"

He turned his dazzling eyes to Stacia, and she felt like she had been slapped in the face from the depth of pure sorrow and betrayal that shone in his eyes. Her heart felt stabbed when he pulled away from her just like his heart felt deceived, thinking that the woman he loved was falling for his enemy.

"I have been shot, my dear. I was shot holding you in my arms as I shielded us from the masked gunmen."

"Oh, William, why didn't you say any thing? We have to get you to a hospital now!"

As she tried to pull him up, William once again withdrew from her touch, feeling such desire to kiss her…to feel her…

"No, my angel, if w-we go to the hospital, then Desslar will have me arrested for attempted murder. You will have to extract the bullet fragments at the safe house we established before we came here…"

Stacia wanted to object but knew that her protests would fall on deaf ears. William rarely swayed in his opinions or decisions, so it was virtually futile to argue with him.

"I love you so much, William, and I don't want to lose you."

His heart pounded blood in his ears as he tried to swallow the painful lump of bile in his throat. As much as he was angry with her for falling for his enemy, he could not hate her. He could not be as devastated as he was if he did not love her so fiercely. He determined that he'd fight like hell for her. She closed her eyes in ecstasy as he caressed her tears from her cheeks with his soft thumbs.

He allowed her to help him in the passenger seat, but before she sauntered to the driver's seat, he clutched her arm.

Looking her straight in the eyes, his labored breathing came out in pain-filled hisses, and he was going in and out of consciousness. Closing and opening his eyes, he tried to focus on the woman he loved. He had to tell her what he knew in case he died.

He struggled with the words, but discovered them before he completely passed out.

"I k-know who t-tried to k-kill Erik D-desslar."

Stacia rushed to the driver's seat, too concerned for her lover's health to contemplate what William said. She drove like a maniac to the safe house that William bought earlier that month, determined to save the man she loved.

---Back to Madame Giry and Nadir---

Nadir, with his brown hands fidgeting, paced the living room while Madame Giry and Darius watched him, worried. They all had been debating whether to tell Erik the truth now or later, and all three had different opinions. Madame Giry thought they should tell him while Nadir believed they should not tell him, and Darius was conflicted.

"What is he going to do when he finds out that his father is a rapist, Anne? He will kill him for the FBI agent."

Madame Giry shook her head in dissention, "No, Nadir, I don't think he will; since, he has other things to worry about like who hired those men to try and kill him. I think he deserves to know the truth. You and I both know what Erik does to those who lie to him. He hates liars."

Nadir sighed heavily, and acquiesced. "Okay, I will call him, and set up a meeting."

Madame Giry and Darius nodded, and set to work. He was worried. Where was the masked man? The last time that someone lied to Erik, the person ended up stuffed into a ventilation shaft with a broken neck, broken arms, and tongue cut out. No one could pin the crime on anyone, but Nadir knew. He knew…

As a result, he prayed fervently that Christine had not lied to Erik about anything. If she did, then the ramifications that Erik would make her pay could be catastrophic!

Nadir stared at his phone, wondering what the right thing to do concerning Erik as if he expected a sign from Allah to come down and tell him what to do. He also had a grave suspicion that Erik was not doing well.

Unfortunately, there was no magical answer that descended from above. Dialing Erik's number, Nadir felt an immense amount of guilt over the possible consequences of his actions, but he would do it for Anne. He would do it for Anne…

----Christine's car: the confrontation----

Christine felt uncomfortable with the smothering silence in the car, and she tried to look out the passenger's side window to take her mind elsewhere. It failed. Something was bothering Erik, and she desperately wanted to know why he seemed angry with her.

"Erik, what's wrong? What have I done to upset you?"

Her answer was silence. Erik was too absorbed in his thoughts that he did not hear what she asked him. He felt bad about hurting Stacia, but he could not have helped it. She defended him and lashed out at Christine for not seeing him as a man who loved her. He also saw the look of utter betrayal on Addams' face.

That was the only torture or pain that Erik inflicted on him and it was unintentional. Erik struggled to know what to feel: honored or angered by her defense. Christine again asked him.

Finally, Erik had enough. He had enough of her incessant ignorance, of her uncertainty, and of her innocence. He frantically yearned for her to _see _him…to see how much he _loved_ her!

It was time to face her…It was time to confront his problems and demons before it ate him alive.

"Stacia was right; I love you! God, I love you so much…Why can't you accept me? My face is always the reason they run. No one is capable of loving me because of this wretched face. How could you fail to see my love?"

Christine's eyes filled with tears as she responded, "I did see it, Erik; but you scared me…"

"Oh, don't you dare go there! I scared you? Well, did I not warn you to never remove my mask? Did I not give you space on several occasions? Did I not respect you when I stopped you from kissing me? Why did I do that? I loved you enough to stop you from making a mistake. Yes, if you had kissed me then, you would feel horror and guilt when you realized you had kissed a beast."

She gripped his hand near the center console while he tried to remove it, but she held it tightly. Erik felt like he was standing at the cliff of abyss, and one shove was needed to send him tumbling into the darkness. The voices were coming back to him at full force, as he sweated uncomfortably. He rubbed his eyes raw as he tried to drown them out, yet the screams of people who had seen his face were echoing in his head so loudly that he could barely breathe or hear Christine's voice.

As soon as he was able to breathe regularly and control the inner demons, Erik's eye caught the gleam of Raoul's engagement ring on the necklace on her neck. Suddenly, he was falling…falling to the murky and rocky depths below.

Christine wrestled within her heart. She looked at Erik and his words hurt her. Yet, she knew it was the truth. She could not deny it any longer. She loved him! She had to let him know that she loved him, and wanted to be with him.

Yes, he could be violent and many times frightened her, but she knew in the innermost part of her soul that he would never turn against her.

"Erik, I want to tell you how I feel."

"Stop!"

Erik interrupted her as his heart shut down, as if in a state of catatonia. The darker part of his soul, the other Erik, immediately took over his body. The car approached Christine's house, and when they pulled into the driveway, they stepped outside.

Although Christine was warm with her new coat, she shivered from the sinister aura that surrounded Erik's body. She took a step back in fright when he turned to her, his eyes glowed a fiery red with anger. Tearing off his mask, Christine stumbled backwards, tripping on the ground from his repulsive face.

It was not the deformity in and of itself that terrified her, but the facial expression. His red eyes pierced right through her, his mouth and a hole for a nose appeared like three black openings that threatened to suck her inside of them. He stepped forward while Christine staggered back. He stared down at her, his large frame looming over her menacingly.

His hands clenched so tightly together that blood dripped through the crevices of his knuckles; Erik clenched his jaw shut as a pounding headache seized him. An indescribable amount of rage engulfed him, and he lost all control as her ring once again twinkled in the light.

He spoke in a forebodingly jeer, "You want to tell me how you feel, eh? I think your continued looks of horror and repugnance have enlightened me so much. You despise me and have abused me long enough. I will have no more! You have lied to me! I _abhor_ liars!"

Christine, tears pouring down her face in torrents, cried out that she had not lied to him, and did so in vain. She covered her face, trying to blot out Erik's petrifying form.

He tossed his head back and released a maniacal laugh that trembled the very ground that Christine sat upon. His eyes glowed with a horrifying glare at her.

"You are fibbing straight through your teeth now! What is the ring you wear around your neck? It's no doubt the engagement ring from your lover!"

Christine shrunk back, holding her knees to her chest while her hand grasped the ring on the necklace. She had been caught, and she could no longer lie to him.

"Erik, it's true, but I need to explain. If you would just let me explain…"

Erik cut her off, "Ah, I think I have heard your lies long enough. There is nothing for you to explain. I see everything clearly now. You used me to get what you wanted, and then you planned to dump me!"

"No, Erik, it's not like that at all! I…"

"Of course it's not! I am the blind music teacher, who loves his student, and the student used to get what she wanted. Then she tosses him aside to go elope with her wayward lover, Raoul de Chagny, leaving her music teacher to be forever alone and heart-sick."

Christine fervently shook her head during this rant, but Erik's fiery eyes went black and caused him to fail to see her desperate sucks of air in tears.

Christine brainstormed ways to get through to Erik in order to save her life, and suddenly, she came up with an idea. Grabbing Erik's hand, she pressed her lips to the inner side of his pale and cold hand. Then, she pressed a deep kiss on his wrist.

Immediately, Erik's eyes rolled up into his head, and he fell to his knees. The blind rage that had enveloped him so quickly left him just as rapidly. Christine tried to reach to touch him, but he had withdrawn into the shadows staring at his wrist in amazement.

The stranger part of the story was that Erik never remembered what transpires in his bouts with blind rage episodes. He could not recall what he said, did, or thought. It was on the dew covered ground that Erik sat, gawking at his wrist then at Christine's disheveled and grief-stricken appearance. He felt the burn of her lips on his skin…she had kissed him. She had brought him back. Why?

He knew the reason: to save her and her lover's life. This did not make him angry per say; rather, it just dismayed him. Staring at her did nothing to help him, so he stood on two shaking feet and staggered to his car.

Christine kept imploring him to come back and not leave, so they can talk things over. Erik was too enveloped in his feelings that he could not hear her. Unexpectedly, his cell phone rang. Nadir had left him a voice message that simply stated:

"Erik, we need to talk. Come to Antoinette's house as soon as possible. It's about Madeline and your father."

**Author's Note: Yes, it seems that I have given you, my faithful readers, a wonderful gift: A chapter consumed mostly of Erik and Christine drama. _Next chapter_: Christine convinces herself that Erik is officially out of her life; Stacia and William grow farther apart but plan to ambush Erik, the mystery of who hired Buquet is revealed; and finally, Erik learns more about the past that he did not know existed! R&R, please!**

© Copyright 2005


	18. Chapter 17 Honesty is the Agent's Policy

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews: continue to do so. This chapter is mainly explanations and more of the mystery is unraveled. Please review. The story is nearing its end!**

_**Chapter Seventeen- Honesty is the Agents' Policy**_

Erik did not remember driving to Madame Giry's house, nor did he remember anything he said or did until he sat in her dining room holding a cup of steaming tea. The burning liquid quenched his thirst but did nothing to soothe the burning of his heart. He desperately tried to remember what happened between him and Christine. He did recollect that he told Christine of his feelings while Christine kept trying to tell him something, but he would not listen to her entreaties.

What was it she was trying to tell him? Why did he not listen? He delved deeper and deeper in his mind to find these answers. In his memory, a gold twinkle glistened in the darkness, and all of the events came back to him as he recalled everything that had happened up until her kiss on his wrist. Too absorbed in his train of thoughts, he failed to notice Nadir's Arabic accented voice trying to bring him out of his reverie.

"Erik, are you listening to me? Come back to us, my friend. Look at what you have done."

Erik shook his head as his mind cleared. He realized that he had crushed his china cup, and hot tea had scalded his hands and fell to the floor. Looking in the room, he found that three concerned faces were staring at him. Madame Giry had stood, handing him a dry towel, which he grabbed and wiped his hands. Nadir sat leisurely on an armchair by the fireplace, warmed by the fire's blazes. Darius, whom Erik recognized as Nadir's right hand man, stood rigidly still next to Nadir's chair. Erik remembered that this man was a loyally decent fellow and he always strictly adhered to the law.

When Madame Giry sat down on her aged red couch staring absentmindedly at her own cup of tea, Erik waited in the silence. He would not speak first, for he rarely spoke and mostly listened to others.

Nadir cleared his throat and chucked some papers in vanilla folders sealed by a police commissioner on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Erik austerely glanced at the dense file before looking back up at the trio in perplexity.

Madame Giry, who still sat staring in her cup of brown liquid, rose on two irresolute feet and explained the file's contents to Erik.

"Erik, as you know, Madeline told you of your paternity: Paul McLean. Well, on her deathbed she told me that he was not the true father. I have remained silent about it for ten years because I was not exactly sure if she was not just saying that to stick it to us. However, when I told Nadir about it a while back, we agreed to finally investigate her claims. What we found was totally unexpected."

Erik did not know what to do or think but was glad that his skull mask hid any emotion that could be seen. He merely nodded that he heard her. Nadir stood on two heavy legs and set a picture on the coffee table atop the file.

This item Erik picked up and gazed at the faces of his mother, Paul, and himself. Even then, he remembered being miserable and stuck in his mother's hatred and spitefulness. His father, Paul, had abandoned them to pursue a career in politics. Erik didn't blame him for it; at least he did not torment his son like his poor mother did. At that moment, Erik was filled with memories of when his mother beat him, cursed him, and smashed his wretched face into a mirror, causing more lacerations and scars.

He moved languidly to set the picture down, but Madame Giry seized his hand before he could succeed.

Erik stared at her in bewilderment and then watched as she undid the black clasps on the back of the frame. She then pulled out a yellowy parchment-like paper with shoddy cursive handwriting on it; and handing it to him, Erik read it to himself.

_My Dearest Madeline,_

_You are the light of my heart. I live and breathe for you. I love you more than anything. And to my amazement, you are having OUR lovechild together! I cannot wait to hold my child in my arms with you by my side._

_I love you deeply!_

_Forever yours,_

_M.T._

When Erik finished reading the letter, he put it down on the table before looking inquisitively around the room as he stood up.

"What does this mean?"

Nadir put a hand up and motioned him to sit back down, and when Erik did not do so, he warned, "Erik, trust me: you will definitely want to sit back down for what we are about to tell you."

Erik then finally sat down, albeit apprehensively. Nadir drew closer and opened the file, and occasionally pointing to certain papers or lines, he began the explanation.

"Here is the story. After that letter, Anne and I set to work to find your true paternal identity. We knew the chances were slim, but we ran your DNA through the American fingerprint system APHAIS and found a match with seven alleles in common. This matched Michael Tourna: he is your father."

Erik thought the name sounded vaguely familiar.

"It gets even better, Erik. We got his criminal background from the FBI. Here is his file. Notice that he was on trial for raping FBI agent Stacia Manuve. Also, in every case that he was charged with a felony, he was either acquitted, found not guilty, or the trial was declared a mistrial. So, it becomes apparent that someone in the political field is helping him. It gets even better. Your father's father, your grandfather, is Debienne Tourna. He, as you most likely recall, was the previous manager of the Opera house here in Rennes, France. Unfortunately, it seems that he and his partner, Poligny, have some connection with Buquet."

Nadir stopped briefly to take a breath and sip of his tea while Erik absorbed all of this information. Although the information blew Erik away, he was strangely filled with a thirst for vengeance. He wanted to kill the man who had hurt Stacia. Why did he care?

He could not forget that Stacia had saved Christine from suffering the same fate at the hands of the lustful men. She had helped him with the case with Charles Daae, and had kept her word to Erik. She had never lied to him, and even defended his case to Christine. She had saved his life twice, and bandaged his bullet wound.

Yet, he could not contemplate further because Nadir continued where he had left off.

"Poligny McLean is Paul's father. As far as Debienne and Poligny's connection to Buquet, there is absolutely nothing. We have further information, though. It appears that Paul McLean has a son named Damien, and they both have been keeping tabs on you. Here is Damien's birth certificate. Paul's wife Katherine died in that tragic boat accident when the cruise liner crashed into the pier years ago. They both blame you for her death."

Erik was not surprised: he had always felt that someone or some people were following him, yet the feeling subsided when he worked at MI-6. He had gone on the cruise liner to find a terrorist. Things had escalated dreadfully when the terrorist hijacked the ship. Erik and the Al Qaeda follower had fought for control, and the ship ended up colliding into the port. There were a dozen that were injured and a few casualties. Katherine had been gazing out to sea at the bow of the ship, and when the ship crashed into the dock, she had been jolted from her feet and fell sixty feet unto the decimated wooden wharf. Paul had been standing behind her, and witnessed the entire incident. He had literally watched his wife be swept off her feet and thrown to her death.

He was getting ready to leave when Nadir stopped him. Erik returned his probing gaze with his gold orbs glinting. Nadir sighed and pulled Erik's thin arm until he forced his body to sit on the sofa next to Madame Giry. His entire body became a myriad of tense muscles and a constricted chest of apprehension. He did not know how to cope with intimacy, and he was nervous with being close to someone. Odd thing was that he never felt ill at ease when he was near to Christine.

"Erik, I must ask this. The police found Joseph Buquet's body the night of the Masquerade: his corpse fell out of the notch where the chandelier was dropped when Addams released the mechanism to open the hatch. How did Buquet die? Did you kill him?"

Erik smiled slyly underneath his itchy black mask. He might as well entertain his guests with the story; for it was obvious that they believed he had murdered Joseph.

"Well, I am deeply regretful that I must disappoint your theory that I, in fact, am the one that killed Buquet. I did not do such a thing. This is what happened: One night, a while ago, I went to the opera house and heard some commotion coming from the rafters. I went to see what was going on, and in the shadows, I found Buquet and Stacia arguing. She wanted answers, and he refused to give them to her. He still refused when she pointed her gun in his face; when I stepped out, Buquet took her surprise to his advantage and knocked the gun out of her hand with a rafter board. When the gun hit the stage, it backfired and that bullet lodged itself in my shoulder."

Erik, as if his shoulder was shot again, seized his shoulder which ached. The trio looked at him, with rapt attention. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned forward to stare at the floor beneath his feet before he continued the tale again.

"After I was shot, I was momentarily incapacitated. Stacia managed to knock the board out of Buquet's hands and the two began to fight. The rafters began to sway, indicating that at any moment, it would collapse and send us all to our deaths. Stacia stopped moving when she realized this, but the Frenchman made one last chance to kill her. He picked up another board and moved towards her. I managed to pick up a bar; I swung as hard as I could and ended up knocking his feet out from underneath him. He fell and smashed his head on the railing, and then tumbled to the floor below. Stacia had collapsed and clutched the railing to support her while I made sure that Joseph was dead. Once I was sure, she and I put the body into the room with the chandelier. We intended the authorities to find the body and declare it an accident because Stacia and I could not risk exposure. It was self-defense. She left the opera house once she stitched my wound. We had saved each other's lives. That was all."

The rest of the room seemed satisfied with his explanation, since it was the truth. It truly had been self-defense on Erik's part. They all nodded, and Erik gathered all of the paperwork and files for further review later that night.

Leaving the trio behind, Erik drove to the Opera House. When he made it to the front of the Opera house, he handed the keys to the chauffeur to park it in the designated garage. Walking in between the dark shadows the daytime left, he made his way down the dark alleyway. Looking around him to make sure that no one saw him, he pressed a brick made of plastic and an alkaline metal. The cover slid to the right, revealing a security pad.

Pressing the nine digit code, a compilation of twelve bricks wide and twenty-three bricks long shifted the right, revealing a dark tunnel. The tunnel took Erik directly to the underground lake, used for leveling the stage six stories above. With the file in hand, he used the boat to cross over, and he returned to his office.

He set the file on his desk, and went to the music room. The entire set of events of the night before and the new information Antoinette and Nadir told him swirled in his head. Picking up his violin, he began a long period of beautiful music.

In those few hours of constant playing, Erik did nothing but meditate on his music. After he finished, he felt refreshed and alive. His mood was dramatically lifted; however, it was short-lived, for he had to return to work. Moving slowly to his office, he would spend more hours trying to find the answers to questions that still existed and try to forget Christine. He would try…

------Christine's House-----

Christine did not know how long she sat on her porch steps in tears. She could not feel anything anymore; she was freezing. Her lips had a bluish hint and her body was shivering as goose pimples spread on her flesh.

She was even more confused than ever. She had been so prepared to tell Erik that she loved him so deeply she would choose him over Raoul, whom she loved as well. She was so ready to throw her past life away to start a new one with Erik.

Oh, God in heaven, she loved him so much. She still did, but now she realized that there could be no future for them. There was no magical future written in the sky and stars; no, there was nothing.

This broke her heart far more than anything that Erik could say or do to hurt her. Folding her arms around her body, Christine let out a heart-wrenching sob. She could not be with Erik, as much as her heart screamed for that to be untrue. Her tears cascaded down her cheeks in torrents as she felt her world crumble. She had lost so much in her life and Erik was the last thing she ever wanted to lose.

He was gone from her forever. He hated her; she had seen it in his eyes, and she felt it come off in waves from his presence. The memory of what had happened left her in shambles.

She curled up into a ball, leaning against her front door, and she became silent. The only sound that her body emitted was small sniffles that were stifled by the wind. The incongruity of her situation was the fact that Christine was in anguish while the sun shone brightly against the bright blue firmament.

This was the condition that Raoul found her in. He rushed to her side and gathered her in his arms, warming her in his embrace. With no words, he whisked her into her home and set her on her couch. Pulling a blanket that rested on the armchair, he unfolded it and laid it gently over her shivering body.

He sat on the edge of the couch and stroked her arms and tears away. Christine smiled a small smile at him, silently thanking him for his comforting presence. She calmed down after a few minutes, as Raoul did not say anything until she was peaceful.

"That monster, Christine, what did he do to you? Did he hurt you?"

Christine's eyes ached as they tried to tear up with tears that did not come. She shook her head in dissent. He sighed with relief and pulled her to his chest while she heaved with dry sobs. He cursed inwardly and raged against Desslar in his heart.

"I swear that _he_ will not hurt you again, Little Lotte. He will never hurt you like this again. I do not care about what he said to you, for all I care about is that you are safe and he pays for what he has done."

Christine's brows furrowed as she gazed back up at Raoul's face curiously. What did he mean by that?

"What has he done, Raoul?"

"It seems that your _music_ teacher killed Joseph Buquet. His corpse fell from the chandelier opening the night of the Masquerade."

The battle of conflict began to rear its ugly head again in Christine's heart. She did not know what to believe, to think, or to react. She only knew one thing: Erik could not be apart of her life anymore. She could not be with him. She realized that their relationship was over.

Looking at her handsome Raoul, she smiled to herself thinking about everything that was wonderful about this noble man. His love was pure; his heart was large; he cared for her deeply; he would give his life to protect her; he was stable and safe. He wanted the best for her, and he was her best friend. He understood her more than anyone else in the world.

Christine then discovered that he was all that she had left. With Erik, her mother, and her father gone, Raoul was her only connection to the part of her life where she was the happiest. He made her feel loved and safe. He truly loved her, and she definitely loved him. She just was not sure if she could get over Erik to be committed whole-heartedly to Raoul. She would try, though, for this noble man deserved at least that much.

"Philippe told me about Buquet and how that masked man had it in for Frenchman ever since he came to France. Madame Giry helped my brother come to that conclusion. We will end the Opera Ghost's reign of terror. Look, my Lotte, I know that you are not ready for marriage; we do not have to get married right away. The managers, Philippe, and I have connected Erik Desslar and the Opera Ghost as being one in the same. We have conjured up a plan to end his tirade of pain and violence."

Christine was too busy in her thoughts and feelings to truly pay attention to what Raoul said. She convinced herself that Erik was out of her life, since he was a murderer and after what he did to her.

She would stay with Raoul because she loved him, and she would try to make their relationship work. She would try to get over Erik. She would try…

------At the Safe house outside Rennes-----

William could not make it past the door of the home, so Stacia had to carry then drag him to the suede beige couch. He was talking incoherently, and she soon found out why. When she removed his suit jacket, she gasped as she saw his black shirt covered in a sticky mass of blood. She removed his shirt as well and his bronze muscled chest was exposed.

She was filled with an overwhelming desire to kiss him…to touch him…to love him. The cold air rushed to his wound, and her love released a powerful hiss of pain. Stacia wiped the sweat off his feverish brow tenderly as she laid out all of the medical supplies.

Reaching for the white towel, she pressed it to the bleeding wound as gently as she could. William moaned as the wound stung; he gripped her arms as he moaned more. She shushed him to try and calm him; however fear arrested her heart as she desperately tried to stop him from losing anymore blood.

His contorted face was pale, and his lips were not pink anymore but white. If she did not stop the bleeding, he would go in shock if he did not die from the toxicity of the bullet in his tissue.

She needed to start repairing the wound then. Picking up the alcohol and scalpel, she gave a last fleeting glance at William before she added to his pain. Pouring the alcohol into the bleeding injury would clear the blood and bacteria, so she could cut the wound larger to pull the metal fragments out.

Her heart stopped when she dispensed a small amount to rinse the wound clean and William clutched the sides of the couch, screaming in agony. Tears fell off her cheeks as he collapsed into unconsciousness. Taking the scalpel in her hand, she made the bullet hole slightly larger and wiped the excess blood away.

Once she wiped the tweezers clean, she set to work and pulled out a rather large bullet sliver and set it on the tray. She wiped his wound again and pulled out the stray bullet pieces. As soon as she was sure that there were no more bullet fragments left, she took a needle and thread; in a few minutes, she had sewn up the entire wound.

She bandaged the wound, and fell to the floor with her back against the couch. William was sleeping peacefully. He would survive: there was no sign of infection. As he slept, Stacia touched his burned face with loving tenderness. They had been together for years, and both knew that the other was their other half, their soul mate. They had not been married; they almost had, though. Marriage and engagement were painful topics for the two ever since the night of the fire many years ago…

_Stacia was ecstatic to meet with William Addams at the best and most expensive restaurant in town. She had dressed for the occasion: a shoulder-cut emerald gown of satin and chiffon. Her hair was long and pulled up half way while she had a small amount of make-up to accent her green eyes. _

_It was seven o' clock, so the stars were out and easily noticed in the dark sky. She stared transfixed at the small balls of light, and she did not even notice that William had snuck up behind her._

"_Hello, my beautiful angel! I have many surprises for you tonight, so come with me!"_

_Stacia squealed with delight as she pulled him to her, kissing him so passionately, that an old man who was walking by yelled at them for their indecency._

_His tan flawless face gazed down on hers with an enormous amount of love, and drew her lips to his while he sucked her bottom lip whispering how much he loved her. She moaned, pulling his hands to her body, silently begging him to touch her. He reluctantly pulled away. He was dressed in a navy blue tuxedo, a blue vest, white shirt, with a navy tie and new black dress shoes. His golden thick waves of curly hair were tamed back with gel as his golden eyes twinkled with elation._

"_If we do not stop, you will miss my surprise. Now, let's go!"_

_When they arrived at the restaurant, Stacia became suspicious of William because he kept smiling and looking at her before he smiled again. Taking her hand, he led her inside the building. _

_Stacia gasped when she saw that the entire restaurant was empty except for the employees. She turned to William who laughed at her shocked face. His rich laughter brought a smile to her face. _

_It turned out that he had more surprises up his sleeve, but they both sat down at the table and enjoyed a four course meal (even thought Stacia was too excited to eat most of her food). William motioned the head manager, who then pulled back a curtain that revealed a piano._

_Stacia smiled so broadly that she felt as if the sides of her mouth would fall off. He set the napkin on the emptied plate as he walked to the piano. He strummed a few chords before he sat down. Looking at her, he tilted his head to the side before he motioned to her to sit down beside him. She quickly obliged, and leaned her head on his shoulder as he played her their song: "Green Eyes."_

_He rarely sang; he had a nice voice, but he always felt comfortable with just playing piano. He often told her that no voices were necessary to say what his music could say better. _

_When he finished playing their song, he pulled her in his arms, as she kissed his throat and cheeks. His eyes filled with tears, which scared her at first, but she felt better when he smiled at her. He looked at his watch and Stacia saw some uneasiness pass through his hazel eyes._

"_What is it, William?"_

_He grinned at her and stroked her cheek as he responded, "Nothing, my dear. I have to meet with a man at this warehouse tonight, and once I am through, we are free to do it."_

"_What do you mean 'free'? We are free to do what?"_

_At that moment, Stacia jumped with fright as SWAT burst through the restaurant with their black automatic weapons drawn and pointed at the two lovers. They screamed that William was under arrest, and Stacia pulled him to her, refusing to let him go. _

_Suddenly, two agents came behind the SWAT team, who were arranged in a line. The two agents were from the CIA and FBI, respectively. The men were familiar with the lovers, since they were their bosses._

_Standing next to the SWAT team, the bosses smiled broadly at the two. Stacia and William stood, and Stacia noticed that William was trying to stifle his laughing._

"_Why are you laughing, William?"_

_He laughed, trying to control himself before he could answer her. "This is my biggest surprise, angel."_

_Nodding to the SWAT officers, William gathered his love in his arms as she jumped when one officer from the far left fired his weapon. Instead of a bullet coming out, a flag burst out from the end of the barrel that said, 'WILL.'_

_William chuckled as she jumped each time the next man in the line from left to right fired their weapons until all the white flags read:_

"_WILL…YOU…MARRY…ME…STACIA?"_

_Stacia felt her heart soar and her chin drop to the floor. Her eyes were wide as she glanced at William, who knelt down on his knee and had opened a box that exposed a beautiful diamond ring of white gold. _

_The two supervising agents laughed as Stacia jumped up and down screaming, "Yes, YES, YES! I will marry you!"_

_William put the ring on her finger before he drew her in his embrace, as she felt his tears of joy on her face. The employees applauded as the two agents left with the SWAT team after William thanked them profusely._

_After the proposal, William led her to the restaurant's rooftop where there was a candlelit table and rose petals scattered everywhere. They danced, kissed, talked, and laughed before Stacia fell asleep in William's arms while they had stargazed. _

_Lifting her in his arms, he set her in the passenger seat of his car and drove her home. She was sound asleep as he laid her gently on her bed before he removed her shoes and pulled the covers over her body. _

_Giving her one last smile and kiss, he whispered, "I love you." _

_He made his way to the warehouse where he would finally meet the assassin who murdered his sister. Once he was through with dealing with the assassin, he would be free to give Stacia the life she deserved._

_If only he weren't so wrong…_

_Stacia woke up to a violent wave of knocking and ringing of the doorbell. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and realized it was two in the morning. Twisting her engagement ring, she smiled to herself, thinking of William. _

_Carefully descending the stairs after putting on a robe, she answered the door. A police officer smiled and asked her if she was Stacia Manuve. Once she nodded, he asked her if she knew William Addams._

"_Yes, I am engaged to him. He is my fiancé."_

_The police officer's smile then turned into a frown. Handing her some paperwork, he gave her some horrible news that would tear her heart out._

_"I am so sorry to tell you this, Ms. Manuve, but William Addams, your fiancé, has been involved in an accident. He has been severely injured in a fire, and he most likely will not survive the night. He is at Mercy General Hospital in Room 35. I can take you there if you want."_

_Stacia collapsed on the floor, crying out in horror and pain, and prayed to God to save her lover. When she made it to the hospital, the doctors and surgeons would not allow her to be with William. He had been through several extensive reparative surgeries and his entire body was bandaged. If he were to survive and not die from infection, he could have no visitors._

_It was then that Stacia learned that her handsome fiancé would never be the same again. He would never be considered handsome, and would suffer horribly as he healed if he did not die from contamination._

Stacia grasped her cross necklace while twirling the diamond ring that was hidden by her clothes. She had never taken her engagement ring off, even when she realized that marriage would not be a possibility.

Transfixed in her memories, Stacia sat next to William as she rubbed his arm in a vertical motion to soothe her lover's tension. As she tried to comfort her love, William, himself, was reliving a memory. His memory, however, was the recollection of the time that he and Stacia first realized their growing feelings for one another.

"_You're impossible!"_

_"I hate you, William! What have I ever done to you! You had no right to arrest me in front of my family: I did nothing wrong or illegal and you know it!"_

_William, dressed in khakis and a white shirt looked at the fiery woman in a blue cocktail dress who stared defiantly back at him. At first, he had asked her out, in hopes of just having fun. He had no problem with finding beautiful girls to suit his every whim, but this turbulent brunette challenged him. And there was nothing that he enjoyed more than a challenge. _

_She shot him and his come-ons down at least three times before he just found excuses to see her. He drove her crazy with his gifts and chocolate and other lavish gifts, and he would turn around to find his gifts all piled neatly and postmarked back to him._

_She was definitely a challenge. It took him three weeks before he came up with the perfect plan to bend her will to his. _

_While she attended a party dedicated to her brother's release from a six-week stay at the hospital. William and a few of his lesser subordinate CIA agents interrupted the party to arrest Stacia on filing a false report, which both he and she knew that she was not guilty of doing._

_He ended up taking her to his apartment in an effort to make her agree to at least one date; if she did not like him after that one date, he would leave her alone, leaving her with her sanity._

"_I would not have had to arrest you had you gone out with me the first time I asked you."_

_"I am sorry. I do not date arrogant jerks who only want to have sex with me."_

"_So, what you are saying is that you are afraid to date me because I might be human, and that terrifies you. You might develop feelings for me, so you reject my advances. Do you really hate me? Here is what I think: you like me as much as I like you!"_

_"Yes, I do hate you. You don't really care about me…"_

"_I do so care about you; if I were to kiss you, you would not react to it? You would not want or try to kiss me back?"_

_Stacia's eyebrow shot up as she tilted her head to the side, as if daring him to make an attempt. _

_As he approached her slowly, she threatened to throttle him if he touched her. _

"_Don't you dare try and kiss me! Don't you even try to k-!"_

_Unfortunately, she didn't even have a chance. Grabbing the sides of her face, he drew her lips to his. _

_As he predicted, she kissed him back just as passionately, their tongues exploring and tasting each other. He moaned as she pulled him deeper into her mouth. They both then knew that they had developed feelings for each other._

William smiled as he dreamt of this memory; however, his fever came back to him. Stacia's head snapped up as he moaned with renewed pain and fever. He started muttering incoherent phrases and words, which she tried to make sense.

One phrase he kept repeating over and over was that "I know who is trying to kill Desslar."

She wiped his sweaty brow before he groaned louder as he tried to get out of his sleepy stupor. When he opened his eyes, he smirked before he said in a low voice, "Hello, my angel. Have you been guarding me all day?"

She nodded as he coughed up some blood. She kissed his lips tenderly, as they both said 'I love you' at the same time. They both laughed softly at this, but Stacia had to ask him the question.

"My darling, you know who is trying to kill Erik. Who is trying to kill him?"

Stacia bit her lip as she realized her mistake. His eyes shot open as his pupils dilated with an insurmountable amount of rage. His body arose to a sitting position in the course of a few seconds before he rotated his head slowly. Shrinking away to the other side of the room, Stacia knocked over the tray of medical supplies while crawling backwards, cutting herself on the scalpel's blade. She clutched her bleeding hand as William stood up.

Though he was bare-chested and in black trousers, his burned face contorted into a menacing glower over her. She held her injured hand as he yanked her to her feet. Pulling her face mere centimeters from his, he bellowed as his hot breath passed over her face. Stacia noticed that he was trembling with immense pain.

"So, you want to know who is trying to kill your lover!"

"William, that's not fair; I love you!"

"Your love…How can you say you love me, and the next moment you want me to save my mortal enemy? Why should I save the man who ruined my life?"

"I care about him, William. Is that what you want me to say? Yes, I care about Erik. He is a friend! He saved my life, BUT it is **_you_** that I love. It is **_you_** that I want to make love to, to sleep next to your side every night, to kiss and hold you when your heart is aching, to touch you like this…"

She pressed her unharmed hand on his cheek; immediately, his eyes closed in ecstasy while he whispered…begged her to stop. Pulling his razed face to hers, she nudged his lips with hers; he moaned as he tried to move away. Stacia grabbed his cold, shaking hands and pressed them to her chest.

William felt her thundering heart beat.

"My heart beats for you. It is the reason I live: to love and be loved by you. Tell me that your heart beats for the same reasons as well."

Tears poured down his charred, scarred countenance as he pulled away. Staring at her hands, Stacia became panicked when she detected his blood on them. Raising her eyes to William's slumped form by the wall, she tried to reach out to him; but he violently withdrew from her touch.

They fought: Stacia wanted to re-stitch his wound while he did not want her to touch him. Suddenly, his cell phone rang. Both of them looked at each other before Stacia handed him his phone.

Looking at the caller id, he sighed heavily and answered.

"Hello?"

The other person on the line spoke for five minutes before William could even respond.

"Yes, I see. I understand that you are upset, but there are others that will see to it. I am through. I promised my lover that I would…"

He was once again interrupted and Stacia could hear the person raise his or her voice to a yell while William held the phone away from his ear. Glancing at Stacia, he returned to the conversation once more.

"Look, I will meet with you later, but I will _not_ do what you have asked me. I will call you with further information, so good bye!"

Hanging up the phone, he set it aside. Slowly and excruciatingly, he rose to his feet. Watching Stacia's face, he spoke to her.

"I do not trust you. You would rather see me die than to see Erik die, but I need your help. If you love me, then you will help me confront Erik within the next two hours. I need to talk to him: I will not kill nor hurt him. It is imperative that I see him within the next twenty-four hours. I have to give him some information."

Stacia retorted, "I would not rather see you die first. I love you, and for you to say something so absurd is hurtful. I will help set up a meeting…on one condition: that after the meeting, you will let me take care of you. You will rest and do what I say so that you can recuperate."

William nodded. "Okay, I will agree. Now, I need your help with these stitches and some fresh clothes before we go."

Stacia nodded happily. It was poignant that she did not envision that her friendship with Erik would doom any chance of happiness with the man that she adored.

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! They have paid off: note the really long chapter. The mystery is almost solved. **

**In the next chapter, William gives Erik more answers to the mystery while Christine and Raoul plan to end Erik's reign of terror the night of his work's premiere: _Don Juan Triumphant_. Erik overhears the plan and comes up with one of his own. There are about four chapters left, and the ending will leave you breathless. Don't you like the roller coaster ride?**

**A big thank-you to my faithful reviwers: Twinkle22, JustBFree, MJ Mod, Erik's Muse, whatsmynameagain?, ****Kalaia****, and TimeFlies!**

**Feel free to let me know any improvements, corrections, or stuff you want me to include. Perhaps, a character dedicated after you.**

© Copyright 2005


	19. Chapter 18 Pain is Loving Thee

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Well, I was motivated to update this story quicker. Sorry about the week in between updates. Life tends to get in my way a lot (i.e. My 18th birthday, relatives visiting, and a vacation). Thanks for the nudge, JustBFree! Enjoy!** **Well, I cannot wait to have this story completed…**

_**Chapter Eighteen- Pain is Loving Thee…**_

Stacia called Erik to meet her at the safe house while William hid among the shadows. Erik asked her what the purpose of meeting her there was, and she simply answered that she needed him to find Michael Tourna; of course, he said he would be there as fast as he could. The irony was that she truly did not know that her rapist happened to be the father of Erik Desslar. Her lover, on the other hand, knew so much more than the two.

Stacia anxiously sat on the couch and took to biting her nails, a nervous habit while she heard William's voice permeated through the air as a bodiless quintessence.

"Stop that. You know that I hate it when you chew your nails."

She immediately dropped her hands into her lap while issuing an apologetic look. Although she could not see him, she felt William smile at her compliance. Because of her uneasiness, she cleaned the room again while William stared at her, transfixed by her form. His heart ached. How he wanted all of this to end, so he could take her in his arms and whisk her away! How he wanted to marry her and spend the rest of his life dedicated to worshipping her body, her life, her love; but alas, he knew that until he finished things with Desslar, they did not have a chance of a future.

When she finished cleaning for the third time, the doorbell rang. Her eyes widened as she faced the 'empty' room and said, "Here goes nothing."

Answering the door, she showed Erik in the living room. Smiling at him, she offered him a seat which he accepted. He looked incredulously at her as she sat down.

"I met with Nadir and a DNA technician Darius Amman to find out some information. You asked me here tonight because you wanted me to help track down Michael Tourna. Do you have some information that I can use to start the pursuit?"

"She does not, but I can explain everything you need to know. I can uncover the mystery you are so desperate to solve."

Both Stacia and Erik turned their eyes to William who stepped out of the shadows. Her eyes lit up at the sight of his black trench coat clad figure while Erik glowered underneath the black mask at the sight of the man's burned face.

"So, you do not want my help at all! You and Addams planned to ambush me!"

Erik picked up the vase that sat on the coffee table; briefly staring at it then glancing at William, he rotated on his heel and slammed the container on the floor next to William's feet. William did not even budge a foot as glass shattered everywhere. Erik tilted his head to the side while he and William glared at each other.

"Yes, Erik, it is true that William and I planned to ambush you, but it is for a good reason."

Erik raised his hand to slap her, while William's entire body was ready to pounce. Erik pulled back his arm, and instead of slapping her, he slammed his fist into the wall next to her head right through the plaster.

Stacia winced but stood still. Erik moved closer to her as his black mask loomed over her, menacingly. She inhaled sharply through her nostrils in a futile effort to calm her shot nerves.

Erik smirked as he watched his opponent's body stiffen as he observed the masked man draw closer to the woman he loved. Erik had found his enemy's weakness, and he intended to exploit it to get back at the two for ambushing him. The masked man refused to let Addams have the advantage over him.

Erik turned and leaned against the opposite wall while he flicked razor stars, which he had picked up from a dojo master from Malaysia after solving a monk's tragic murder, on the ground. Aiming them at Stacia's direction, he threw them in such a skilled way; she moved all around to avoid getting hit.

Too busy relishing at having the upper hand, the masked man failed to realize that William was slowly edging closer to him. When Erik realized his presence, it was too late. William had pressed a switchblade to the masked man's throat, ready to end his miserable life.

The burned face scowled at him as he pressed the blade into the skin as a dark red liquid dripped from the wound. Erik then flicked his wrist, pulling William's head to his masked face as William's oxygen was slowly cut off. This is when Stacia rushed to the two who were at an impasse.

William's heart shattered in his chest as the woman he loved once again pleaded with him to spare Desslar's life. Groaning with indignation and pain, he quickly pulled away along with Desslar. The masked man relinquished his hold on the Punjab lasso as the man with the burned face gasped for air. Erik, whose fun had just been ruined, dusted off his clothes before standing up.

"Well, it appears that I have overstayed my welcome. I shall take my leave."

As Erik sauntered to the front door, he abruptly stopped moving when William said something that stunned him to immobility.

"If you want to know the whole story behind Luciana's death and why Christine Daae's father was murdered, you better turn around and sit back down now."

Despite his nonchalant tone, William was anxious to get the confrontation over. Erik gradually sat back down on the couch while he and Stacia stood in front of him. Walking over to the dresser, William opened a drawer and retrieved a file which he set to the side on the coffee table.

"Debienne and Poligny, the former owners of the Opera house, used their status as managers as a cover for what they really were doing. They are loan sharks while Debienne is the father of Michael Tourna, your father. Poligny is the father of Paul McLean, the judge. When Michael was charged with a murder of a woman and the rape of…Stacia…"

He stuttered when he saw the look of sorrow passed over her face, but she nodded, giving him courage to continue.

"When Michael was charged with the rape and murder, he sought out Paul McLean who was the trial judge over his case. They met in an alley during the London Music Festival. I was there trailing you; and while you were testifying in court, Luciana witnessed the bribery exchange between your father and Paul. I was only able to arrest Michael Tourna on charges of bribery of a court official."

Erik glanced at Stacia and the man with the burned face he had been responsible for causing, and the masked man was suspicious. Why should he believe anything out of the mouth of the man who tracked him and tried to assassinate him? Yet, he continued to listen.

"Paul panicked when he realized that Luciana, the little girl, witnessed everything. Because of the little girl, Paul knew that his career as a high profile judge would be obliterated; he had to stop it at any cost. During the span of two weeks, he called his father Poligny and told him everything."

William sighed as he opened the file and showed Erik the phone conversation that Paul had with his father, Poligny.

"Poligny contacted Debienne, and the two hired Buquet to get rid of the witness. Here are the accounts of Poligny and Debienne. Notice that large substantial amounts of money were wired to a Swiss account under an alias of Joseph's and depleted from their accounts. They paid Joseph off. Like I said before, the two former managers are loan sharks, and Charles Daae comes into play."

Erik inwardly cringed as he speculated where the story was going. He had a feeling he knew what had happened to Christine's father.

"I am sure you know that Charles Daae was dying from lung cancer and he did not want his enormous debts to be passed on to Christine. He enlisted the former managers to pay off his debts as long as he paid them back with full rights to his music. He paid them off with giving them full rights to his creations for a while. Unfortunately for them, Charles was a good and decent man who was just caught up doing wrong things with right intentions. He planned on confessing everything to the police."

Erik sighed heavily, knowing it all made sense now. He was extremely worried about how he was going to explain all of this to Christine…but alas, he knew that he could not face her any time now.

"You know that Debienne and Poligny hired Buquet to kill Charles. All of the information I have told you is confirmed in this file. I also know everything because the CIA was suspicious of embezzlement of funds through a U.S. senator. Remember he was murdered and that was why Stacia and I came here, originally. We were assigned to trail and investigate the case. It turns out that the U.S. senator was responsible for embezzling millions along with a partnership with the French opera house managers. They were swindling money in and out of the country. Unfortunately for the senator, Debienne and Poligny found out that he was cheating money out of their pockets. That is how the senator ended up stuffed into a costume trunk."

Erik found himself stunned for one of the first times in his life. Because of his enemy, he had all of the answers he had sought for so long. He had everything he needed to move on with his life. In the innermost part of his soul, he wished he could move on with his life with Christine.

Yet, he feared that in the end, Christine would reject him like everyone else in his life: his mother, Lily, Giovanni…

Looking at Addams, he still was dubious about trusting him.

"Why did you help me? You and I are enemies, so why would you relinquish your advantage over me?"

Stacia and William made eye contact, and it was then that Stacia realized the depth of betrayal he felt. She saw his slumped form, but it was his eyes that revealed everything. There was no emotion: it was as if he was living only by breathing. He had emotionally shut-down. What she failed to realize was that he would soon suffer a catastrophic mental breakdown.

He answered Erik in a monotonous voice, "I did it to protect her. I did it for her because I love her and will always put her needs first. She is a true friend to you, and I will do anything for her: even if it is to help my enemy."

William turned his back to Erik and Stacia as he walked to the fireplace. Resting his arm on the mantle, he leaned his forehead on his arm while staring into the glowing hearth. Erik took the file and nodded towards Stacia before he stood up.

"I will make sure justice will be served."

He perceived William's burned face glance meekly in his direction, acknowledging he still existed. Grabbing the file, Erik left quietly.

William's rigid posture in front of the flames emanated an immense shadow that enveloped Stacia. She could not believe he was so close to his greatest fear: fire. Ever since that warehouse fire, William feared nothing except flames; he could not even stay in a room with several candles lit.

"William, please talk to me."

An eerie orange luminescence reflected off his eyes as he turned his head to the side. A soft twinkle exposed a tear trail down his cheek. He spoke mellifluously as if his voice suddenly left him.

"I believe that we have said enough; however, I will say some more things and be through."

His stiff form spun around as he removed his coat and threw it to the side. He slowly sat down on the couch, clutching his wounded abdomen as he shifted his weight in order to be more comfortable.

Looking at the woman he loved with sorrowful eyes, he grasped her hand. Stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, he sucked in painful gulp of air. He could not speak. He emitted a distressing sob as he placed his other hand on his face, weeping uncontrollably. Stacia could do nothing except stare in stunned silence.

Her heart ached for him; it shattered when his watery grief-stricken eyes met hers in an unwavering gaze that spoke volumes.

He took another deep and shaky breath, attempting to stop himself from drowning in his misery.

"Stacia, you are my life and my light, but I have mistreated you. I did not put you first. I was so blind in getting revenge against Desslar that I failed to see your pain. How could I accomplish the right motives by doing the wrong things? How could I not see that all the while I tried to exact revenge against Desslar, that I was in fact hurting only you! You once told me that hating someone does nothing to hurt him because hate does not impair his ability to live. Ha, I can quote you saying, 'Hate kills the hater.' It is true. My hate has devoured my entire inner being into ruins. I have let my hatred destroy our love…our pure love. I am so sorry…I am so sor-…"

His voice gave out as his throat swelled up and ached so much that a renewed sense of heartache overtook him. Stacia's tears poured down her cheeks as she touched his face, his hands, and his closed eyes. He opened his eyes and stared at her before he leaned over to her.

Their lips met softly. However, as Stacia felt his kiss meant farewell, she grasped his face to prevent him from pulling away. He moaned as her sweet lips and taste were torture to his heart. Their tongues collided in their arduous passion for the other. The taste of goodbye was the most bitter of tastes.

Murmuring against her lips, "This has to stop, my angel. I can't…oh…I can't stay."

She cried out in sorrow as he pulled away. In his anguish, his feet failed him, and he fell to his knees and screamed while he pounded his fist into the floor over and over again.

"Why! WHY! WHY!"

On the last cry, his voice cracked under the extreme amount of grief his heart carried. He had to end it. He could no longer stay with her.

"Please, William, I do not want to lose you. Don't leave me…"

"Don't you see my angel? Don't you see that I am destroying you? I am only hurting you worse by staying with you. I am becoming like hatred: I am slowly killing your inner soul. If I succeed in demolishing your soul, I will die. You are so beautiful. I love you. I love you so much. Oh my angel, how can I stay knowing I will only end up ruining you?"

She shook her head fervently but to no avail. William would not be swayed by anything she said or did. Her face scrunched up as she released a wail that would wake the dead; clutching her sides, she tumbled face first on the floor, screaming as William pulled himself to his feet.

Feeling his entire heart try to lurch itself out of his chest, William walked out the door with his coat in hand into the bitter cold that matched the ambiance of his mind and soul while Stacia lay broken on the floor suffering in the aftermath of the goodbye. One thought that echoed in both minds was that 'Love does not always conquer all.'

----Nadir's Apartment----

Nadir had just made it back to his apartment while Darius had boarded a plane back to Iran where he was needed for a case. He sat down on his usual armchair with a cup of steaming hot cocoa with a newspaper in his lap.

Although his trepidation for Erik's whereabouts gnawed at him, he determined that he needed the relaxation and a night of rest more. Putting on his spectacles, he proceeded to read the newspaper when a knock on the door disrupted his night of respite.

Sighing heavily, he stood on two heavy feet to go answer his door, dreading who or what lay on the other side. Pulling the white wooden door, he gasped in shock as he saw Stacia crumpled on the floor in a fit of tears.

"Stacia, what in the world happened? Did Erik hurt you? Allah, what has he done now!"

Helping her to her feet, he guided her to his sofa, kicking the door shut behind him. Handing her a Kleenex tissue to wipe her face, he waited patiently until she was ready to speak to him.

"William and I told Erik everything…Mr. Khan, I am so sorry. I knew all about what happened to Charles Daae and Joseph Buquet. I should have told you sooner. Anyhow, W..William told him about everything. After E..Erik left, it created a huge fight between us, and William left in a huff."

She began to cry again, and Nadir held her while rocking her to side to side in an effort to soothe her pain. She placed a gold ring on the table and stared at it absentmindedly. Nadir glanced between her and the gold ring in confusion. He began to worry when she did not stop staring into space for five silent minutes; however, he thought it best to remain silent until she was ready to speak.

Suddenly, she looked at him through watery eyes.

"That ring is the one that I bought William for our wedding. He never took it off after the warehouse fire. I can't believe he left it behind on accident; this is his way of saying goodbye. I do not understand why he would leave me. He kept saying that he loved me. If he loved me, why would he do something like this when he knows it would kill me?"

Nadir grasped her white hand in his brown hand, stroking it in a consoling manner.

"Sometimes it takes a misunderstanding…Sometimes it takes trials to test love in order to see if it is strong. The tests that occur in love help teach us the truth of the emotion: the good, bad, and ugly. Even a break-up is healthy for your relationship because it can be the defining point where one of you realizes that life does not matter without the other in it. Perhaps time is all that you need, Agent Stacia."

Her eyes twinkled with admiration for the retired Iranian chief of police. She nodded in agreement before she picked the ring up and put it in her pocket. Her visceral reaction told her that William would recognize his mistake.

"Are you going to be all right? If not, you can always have a place here with me and my…my…my books!"

Stacia laughed merrily, a temporary alleviation to her broken heart and spirit. She patted his hand light-heartedly before she stood up.

"Yes, I will be okay…once William comes back to me."

Nadir smiled a small grin before asking, "Would you mind updating me with everything that you know?"

She sighed heavily before gripping his hand and nodded solemnly. Taking a deep breath, she told the Iranian the entire truth that had occurred for the past two days and condensed it to twenty minutes. When she finished, she tentatively looked at Nadir.

Pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, Nadir exhaled deeply as his astute mind processed the whole story. Stacia set her mug on the table and hugged the chief of police before standing up.

"Thank-you, Mr. Khan, for everything. I am indebted to you, but I must go find William. We have to work things out. We have to be together…"

Her voice quivered towards the end statement as she spoke more to herself than Nadir. Nadir nodded and walked her to his door, still trying to absorb everything about Debienne, Poligny, Michael, Erik, William. It was just too astounding!

"Are you sure that I cannot sway you to stay? Are you positive that you will be fine?"

"Yes, I will be fine as long as William and I are together: he and I were meant to be eternal soul mates. I'm sorry to burden you, Mr. Khan. I'll go, but I promise to keep in touch with you."

"I expect you to do just that, Agent Manuve. Good luck with Addams."

She smiled and walked down the hall to the elevators, and she waved at Nadir before she went into the elevator and was seen no more.

-----At the Safe house-----

William stood in the same spot where the fight between he and Stacia occurred. Staring transfixed at the white ring on his ring finger where his gold wedding band used to occupy. Tilting his head upwards, he let out a wretched wail of pain and anger mixed together.

She was gone! He had forced her to abandon him. He could not stand the visual image of her and Desslar together, and that was why he knew he had to get out of France. If he did see them together, he knew that he would lose it.

Silently he prayed that should Desslar and he delve into an altercation, he hoped that they would kill each other. Neither of the men deserved to be with his Stacia. As a last testament to his undying love and devotion to her, William would get rid of Michael Tourna once and for all. Screw Desslar's relation to that vile serpent of a human being.

At that moment, William went to the mirror and stared at the haggard burned face reflected back at him. Pressing his finger tips on the cool glass, he outlined the places where he had felt the flesh melt off his visage.

Turning around, he waved his arms around him, talking incoherently to himself. Phrases that were essentially made up of nonsense floated around the room. In his mind, William spoke coherently and lucidly, but physically, this is what came out:

"No, Erik will not win. She will kill me if I do not follow through with her plan. What will I do? I cannot break my promise to Stacia. I cannot kill Erik…wait…I can…I got it! Killing Desslar is exactly what I will do. That way she will be pleased and Stacia will see that I kept my promise. Desslar dead is my only chance to win. I can finally be free from her and my sister haunting me. HA, ha! I can be invincible, and even Erik would have to agree that this is a marvelous plan in which everyone can triumph. I think I need a drink."

He moved to the cupboard and retrieved a bottle of whiskey which he downed in less than two minutes. His pupils dilated and he swaggered over to the fire. Throwing the whiskey bottle into the fire, he smiled with satisfaction as he heard the glass whistle and shatter into pieces amid the heat. He hiccupped like a loony drunk on the streets during Mardi gras.

Stumbling backwards in the living room where Stacia had dressed his wound, where he told Erik everything, where he abandoned her; William downed another bottle of whiskey as he began to speak nonsense again.

"The nonessential quintessence of her face haunts me, but I have to…hiccup…I have told her I could not done it. She is a crazy bitch…Who does she think she is? I am invincible…Fire cannot hold me…Maybe she needs to get drunk, too. Stacia never deserved what I did to…uh…push her away…I can't let her find out…She would done shoot me in my head if she found out…"

Stumbling to the fiery hearth, William tossed the bottle unto the floor where a few drops of whiskey dropped as the glass disintegrated at his feet. Looking down, William laughed as he dropped to the ground and began rolling around on the floor while glass shards imbedded in his skin, bellowing in hysterics.

William stood up and put a Coldplay CD into the stereo's tray. The song "What If" began to play loudly in the room.

_What if there was no light  
Nothing wrong, nothing right  
What if there was no time  
And no reason or rhyme  
What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life_

What if I got it wrong  
And no poem or song  
Could put right what I got wrong  
Or make you feel I belong  
What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life

Oooh, that's right  
Let's take a break, try to put it aside  
Oooh, that's right  
I can't ignore it if you won't even try  
Oooh, that's right

When every step that you take  
Can be your biggest mistake  
And it could bend, or it could break  
Well that's just the risk that you take  
What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life

Too drunk to feel the pain or blood, he lay back down and continued to roll in the glass when he got the bright idea to prove his "invincibility."

Standing up, he picked up his walking cane and wrapped the remnants of his bloody Masquerade shirt around the curved end of the wooden stick. Going back to the cupboard, he took out a container of Vodka and dumped its contents all over the cloth before hurling the empty jug on the ground.

Walking to the hearth, he hiccupped several times; he shoved the end of the stick into the flames.

Of course, it ignited into a ball of fire much to William's pleasure. The irony of the moment was that a happy-go-lucky song from Coldplay blasted through the speakers, encouraging William to dance while spinning the flaming weapon in the air.

_Trying hard to speak_

_And fighting with my weak hand_

_Driven to distraction_

_So part of the plan_

_When something is broken_

_And you try to fix it_

_Trying to repair it_

_Any way you can_

_I dive in at the deep end_

_You become my best friend_

_I wanna love you but I don't know if I can_

_I know something is broken_

_And I'm trying to fix it_

_Trying to repair it anyway I can_

_Oooohh, oooohh_

_Oooohh, oooohh_

_You and me are floating on a tidal wave... together_

_You and me are drifting into outer space... and singing_

_Oooohh, oooohh_

_You and me are floating on a tidal wave... together_

_You and me are drifting into outer space_

_You and me are floating on a tidal wave... together_

_You and me are drifting into outer space... and singing_

_Oooohh, oooohh_

_Oooohh, oooohh_

While he was dancing, he failed to notice that the fiery cane had caught the curtains on fire. Pretty soon, the fire spread to the couch and roof while William had passed out in the middle of the floor next to the fiery cane.

-----Managers' Office----

Christine stood next to Raoul while he and the managers discussed their well thought out plan to destroy the Opera Ghost's reign over the theater. Christine's thoughts kept drifting to the masked man who had literally run into her life.

He had been so kind to her. Eventually, he had helped her through her grief over her father when he vowed to make his killer pay. Yet, he was so secretive. She knew that he loved her so much, but how could she be with a man who kept secrets from her?

There could be no trust between the two if he continued to keep things from her. Then there was his temper. She could not grasp how radically he could switch moods from happiness to absolute fury.

Deep down she knew that he would never intentionally hurt her; yet in his blind rage, he did not see anything or remember anything that he did. They shared so much together: music, tragic circumstances, heartache, and love.

Why could he not see how much she cared…loved him! It was so frustrating. Although Erik played a major part in their relationship's disintegration, Christine realized that she, too, also contributed to the break-up.

Her indecisiveness in who she wanted to be with, Raoul or Erik, had left both devastated and confused. Sighing heavily, she was lost in her tumultuous feelings while the managers and Raoul argued about how to get rid of Erik Desslar.

"My brother and I are the patrons to this theater, so it should be our plan that you ought to follow through. You are in over your heads without us; Philippe and I have resources that you need. Will you at least hear me out?"

Andre and Firmin looked at each other and at Raoul apprehensively. After all, it was his fiancée that had led that monster Erik to their theater in the first place. They both glanced down at their desk where the madman written them both a letter in sloppy red handwriting.

_My 'dear' managers:_

_I know that you have received my masterpiece Don Juan Triumphant. In this letter you will see herein lies all of the roles and my commands. If you should decide not to heed my demands, a larger catastrophe than your precious chandelier calamity will occur. Here are my orders as follows:_

_Christine Daae shall play the lead role, Margarita while Carlotta shall play the silent pageboy. Piangi will play the role of Don Juan._

_Christine Daae will need voice lessons, and if she wants me to be her voice teacher, I will be glad to abide._

_My box shall be reserved for the following: Madame Giry, Nadir Khan, and Darius Amman._

_Megan Giry shall play the lead ballerina in Act Two. You, my managers, shall give credit to the rightful creator._

_I am well aware that you know who I am. I am not a ghost as you once believed me to be; rather, I am an agent. If you do not follow through with said above, I will make sure that no one leaves without suffering greatly._

_Cordially Yours,_

_Opera Ghost_

_A.K.A. Erik D._

_P.S. Any harm that befalls you or the patrons or the audience is not entirely my fault. The other person at fault is my dear pupil Christine._

Christine was astonished that he blamed her for any detriment that would transpire if the managers did not agree to do Erik's orders.

The managers meekly nodded in acceptance of Raoul's plan. The young patron opened his mouth and began to tell Andre, Firmin, Christine, Madame Giry, Meg, and Philippe his plan to vanquish Erik.

It was then that Nadir appeared at the meeting late. He stood next to Madame Giry who caught him up to date with the transpirations of the plan. Raoul waited before he started to tell his plan again.

"As you all can clearly see, this Erik has a fixation with my fiancée Christine, so here is my plan. Follow his orders. Let Christine sing in the lead role. That madman is bound to show up to hear his handiwork, and that is where the police come in. I will see to it that the entire Rennes Special Tasks Force do surveillance of the opera house. Once they get a clear shot, they can take him out. That way no one will be get hurt by this monster anymore."

Christine's head shot up as she was knocked out of her reverie at the idea of Erik getting shot. While she knew she and Erik could not be together in love, she did not want him to die! Tears sprang to her eyes as she incessantly shook her head in dissention whilst Madame Giry and Nadir glanced at each other in horror.

Meg gasped in shock and disgust while Philippe looked at his brother as if he had grown a third head. Was he out of his mind!

"Brother, have you lost your mind! You can't just have police shoot their guns in a theater full of innocent people! I understand your love for Christine and your need to protect her, but there has to be another way!"

"Yes, I agree with Philippe. Raoul, my darling, there has to be another way. I do not want anymore people to be hurt because of me. You do not know what Erik is capable of doing. He is a genius and will do anything he has to do to protect himself!"

Raoul skimmed the room about him. Christine, Philippe, Meg, Madame Giry, and Nadir all had worried expressions while the managers peeped at each other with sudden opposition to his plan.

Feeling helpless, Raoul had to strike the chords in their hearts to make them see it was the only way.

"I do not like the idea either, but there is no other way. The police I am prepared to hire are especially trained to take down dangerous assassins like Erik. Have you forgotten what this man is capable of: remember Joseph's bloodied and bloated corpse! He is able to commit mass murder! If we do not, there is no telling which of my or your loved ones will die at his hands. Are you all willing to take that risk? If you are, then do not do it. I, for one, am not willing to risk it."

Christine's throat closed up with tears that would not fall. How could she betray the man that had been her protector? He had shielded her from her father's killer. She loved him, so how could she lead him to his death!

She folded her arms across her aching chest as she struggled to decide which way was the best choice for everyone. Ignoring her light-headedness, she inwardly fought with her feelings until she came to a final decision.

In the end, she decided that it was best for everyone's safety that she did it. While it sounded awful, maybe Erik would have a more peaceful afterlife than existence. Maybe she could set him free from a life of pain and suffering.

The managers nodded to Raoul's plan while Madame Giry and Nadir remained silent. They could not afford to risk exposing their involvement with Erik. Philippe noticed Meg's fear and grasped her hand. Squeezing her small hand, he helped reassure her that everything would turn out fine.

Everyone then looked at Christine. Ultimately, it was her decision that would seal Erik's fate forever.

"So, my dear love Christine, what is your decision?"

Christine stared at Raoul as tears fell from her eyes as her heart broke. Although Raoul mistook her tears as fear, Christine's tears fell because of her love for Erik. She would set Erik free from his pain. She would let him truly go.

"I will do it."

The managers and Raoul clapped in relief. They began calling people and writing down their plan while the others stood in stunned silence. Nadir clasped Antoinette's pale hand in his dark one as he whispered in her ear.

"I saved Erik once, and I will do it again. Don't worry. I will make sure that he will not die."

Christine stared at her feet as tears collected on the ground. Rehearsals for Don Juan would start the next day. She was in love with two men, but it was her soul that belonged to one of them: the one that would die at her hands.

The only thought she had was that not only was she betraying Erik, she was really betraying her heart.

----In a secret passage near the manager's room---

Erik felt like screaming in rage and punching his fist in mirrors, ranting about the injustice of it all. He was not responsible for the deaths of anyone! William Addams had done it all! What's worse that his entire life had been a lie from the beginning!

Now, the ignorant managers and that stupid prick of nobility, Raoul, were planning on killing him. Erik thought odiously to himself, '_If I am to die the day my masterwork is shown to mankind, then I will go in a triumphant flame of glory!_'

He scrambled down the labyrinth of passageways to his underground home, half drunk with rage and thirst of vengeance. There along the dark placid lake waters, he screamed and screamed while the echoes of his bellows were the only company he had. When his throat was red and raw and could speak no longer, he recognized how utterly alone he truly was.

There was no one in the world who understood his pain. Well, he would make her see. He would make her _see_ his pain! He then fell to his knees, quietly sobbing while he desperately tried to clutch his reason but to no avail. He slowly felt his sanity slip out of his mind as the dark void filled with anger and hatred took over his heart.

Looking up at the rocky stone structure overhead, he threw his fist up as he flung his mask off, revealing a contorted face of agony and rage.

" **_WHY! How could you betray me, my angel! How could you lead me to the guillotine! You will see my pain! I will make you see! AAaaahhh!!!!!! Why!!!!!!!!"_**

He fell on his side as he inhaled sharply, trying to obtain the air he had yelled out. While he convinced himself that he could make his angel understand, he recognized that like his screams of pain underneath the earth could not be heard; his suffering could not be heard.

He would never be heard…

**Author's Note: Yes, I realize that I was slow as molasses in getting this chapter out. Luckily, I finished it relatively quickly. Anyhow, I had a mild case of writer's block that I eventually overcame. Here are some notes that might help you.**

**Poligny- father of Paul; grandfather of Damien**

**Debienne- father of Michael; grandfather of Erik**

**If this is not easy to follow, let me know. I will work harder to help make it clearer. I hope you have enjoyed this rollercoaster because we are now at the top of the tallest inclination. Be prepared for the descending!**

© Copyright 2005


	20. Chapter 19 Heartache of the Heartbroken

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews; they make me happy. In this chapter, it is mostly Erik/ Christine. Rehearsals for Don Juan begin as well as Christine's music lessons with Erik. William is freed from the fire and he and Stacia come to an understanding. Raoul expresses his fears to Philippe while Nadir and Madame Giry try to prepare for the inevitable. Also, a secret meeting occurs.**

**Previously on MMM:**

_Looking up at the rocky stone structure overhead, he threw his fist up as he flung his mask off, revealing a contorted face of agony and rage._

"_**WHY! How could you betray me, my angel! How could you lead me to the guillotine! You will see my pain! I will make you see! AAaaahhh!!!!!! Why!!!!!!!!"**_

_He fell on his side as he inhaled sharply, trying to obtain the air he had yelled out. While he convinced himself that he could make his angel understand, he recognized that like his screams of pain underneath the earth could not be heard; his suffering could not be heard either._

_He would never be heard…_

_**Chapter Nineteen- The Heartache of the Heartbroken**_

The Rennes Opera House was abundant with decorations and with commotion as Erik's production debut was not so far away. The managers were secretly meeting with police for the ambush to kill the masked man while Philippe and Raoul resumed their roles to ensure the production's success. Out of the controversy and negative press, the irony was that tickets to _Don Juan Triumphant_ were sold out.

Having not put on such a malevolently dark masterpiece before, the Opera House had to create new scenery, make new backdrops, hire new musicians to play the depressive melodies, and even get a crew to perform the illusions Erik had written. All in all, the theater and its people were feeling tremendous pressure, especially as the upcoming debut loomed over their heads.

Christine, feeling the most pressure, was distraught both physically and emotionally. Attempting to sing the grueling songs, she found herself inadequate without Erik's instruction. Now, she stood on the stage rehearsing a scene from _Don Juan_ with Piangi and Carlotta.

Monsieur Reyer, lifted his pointer and smiled brightly at Christine before motioning the orchestra to begin Scene III of Act One. As soon as he cued her to sing, Christine ran off stage. A conundrum of whispering and gossiping ensued as the young woman rushed to her dressing room.

Raoul, having seen her breakdown from backstage, rushed after her as soon as she jetted off. When he made it to her dressing room, he heard her muffled crying behind her door. Knocking softly, he called out to her, "Christine, it's me. Can I come in to talk? What's wrong, my love?"

Opening the door, the blonde man was stunned to see her red eyes and tear-stained face. Her blue eyes glistened as she fought back more tears. Mistaking her heartbreak as nerves, he failed to see her indecision.

"Christine, I love you and want you to be happy. I promise that once this is all over, we can be married! We can have the life that we always wanted. We will not have to worry about that masked man trying to ruin our happiness. He will be in jail or in the ground where he can't hurt you anymore."

Smiling softly, she swallowed the rush of discontent at the thought of impending marriage and Erik's impending doom. Absolutely filled with self-loathing, she responded, "Raoul, I am just overwhelmed right now; give me some time and I will be fine."

Nodding his head, the naive Raoul agreed and kissed her goodbye, telling her Philippe needed his help. Watching him leave, Christine exhaled with relief. Shutting the door, she leaned her back on it, hand pressed to her forehead.

Out of nowhere, a familiar beautiful and melodious voice resounded in the room, "Is the pressure too much for you? I am here to help."

Before she could stop it, a broad smile spread across her face as Erik entered her room. She wanted so desperately to rush to him and hold him in her arms. She wanted to scream how much she loved him to the world. She wanted to be his wife and make love to him, but she knew she could not.

Erik wanted nothing more than to kiss her beautiful face, but her betrayal still was stinging his heart with every breath. Extending his gloved hand, he asked, "Do you want to come with me or not? I won't hurt you…"

"Oh, Erik, I know you would never hurt me! I need help with these songs."

"I noticed you were struggling with certain songs. I wish to help."

"Okay, let's go."

Grabbing his hand in a gentle, yet firm, grip, she followed him into the dark caverns. Nothing was said as they traveled to the underground home. Sitting down at the organ, Erik motioned where he wanted her to stand. Doing so, she straightened her back and inhaled deeply. The first to speak was Christine when they stood in the music room, preparing for the music lesson.

"Erik, I am sorry for anything I have done that has hurt you."

Erik, saying nothing, nodded to her chagrin. Yet, his mind was reveling in the fact that she was lying again. He gritted his teeth, trying to soothe the rage that was slowly consuming him. The meeting where she agreed to betray him to death continued to play out in his mind like some sort of sick kaleidoscope. He knew what he was going to do…she would pay for her treachery.

"Well, let us begin with _Point of No_ _Return_, shall we?"

"Okay."

Playing the intro, Erik's black mask beamed from the candlelight, and Christine was filled with such a desire to kiss him. His gold eyes disappeared as he closed them, giving himself fully into his work.

"_Past the point of no return…No backward glances…the games we've played till now are at an end…"_

Christine, closed her eyes, allowing his melodious singing envelope her in a warm blanket of desire and love. Subconsciously, she did not realize that she had leaned over to his form and kissed his masked forehead.

Suddenly, Erik's eyes snapped open and all music silenced. However, Christine began to sing her part from her heart. Singing to him, she hoped he would see her feelings for him…how much she loved him!

"_You have brought me…to the moment where words run dry…to that moment where speech disappears to silence…silence…I have come here…Hardly knowing the reason why…"_

Erik, hypnotized by her beautiful voice, closed his eyes in ecstasy as he sat on the organ bench. He wanted nothing more than to pretend things were back to the way they were. Growing bolder as the song grew more arduously passionate, Christine began to touch his shoulders, neck, and masked face with feather-light caresses, her love for him growing.

"_Past the point of no return…no thought of if or when…"_

Erik's mind was screaming at him for his stupidity and carelessness, but his heart was thrilled with her touch. The song was coming to the place where their voices would blend and mold into one.

"_Past the point of no return…the final threshold…the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn! We've past the point of no return…"_

As the song concluded, the two stood two feet apart, breathing heavily from the song and desire. Erik's gold eyes flickered with a myriad of emotions while she simply stared at his black-clad form.

Christine approached him and brought her lips to a waiting Erik. Grabbing both sides of his masked face, she kissed him softly at first. The masked man was in heaven, and he pulled her into his arms. Her mouth opened for him, and he gladly plunged his tongue into her warm mouth…Both of them groaned harmoniously, feeling their knees weaken from the powerful sensations that ripped through their bodies.

She tilted his head back to deepen the kiss even more as she explored his mouth. She moaned in his mouth as he his hands caressed her back. She wanted him desperately at that moment. She had dreamed of this moment…until her phone rang.

Groaning with irritation, the two parted. Before she could pick up her cell, Erik grabbed it from her hands. Raoul was the one calling, and fury ripped through his system as he felt foolish for what happened. He had been manipulated…again. Throwing the phone at the wall in rage, he turned toward her with glowing gold eyes as she jumped at the sound of her phone shattering.

Stalking towards her in a menacing way, he began his angry tirade.

"No! I cannot allow you to do this to me again! You are lying to me! I will not tolerate insolence! If you do not want to sing, then do not come to me. I will _not _be used! Too much of my life has been spent in agony; I refuse to be hurt by the woman I love. You used to love me before you realized I was a hideous freak."

"Erik, I loved you…I have for a long time. Erik, I loved you even when I found out you deceived me and when I saw your true face. I sing only for you, Maestro. Raoul broke my heart years ago. I love him, but I am _in_ love with you…"

Erik flung himself to the organ as he covered his ears and screamed, "Lies, lies, LIES! All that you say are lies! You detest me because I deceived you to be close to you…to give you the chance to know the man I am before you knew the monster that I look like. Yet, every time I reach for you, or try to correct you with my hands, you shy away from me like I am a beast!"

"No, Erik, that's not true! I love you! Please listen to me!"

"No more! No! I can't take anymore betrayals…Spare me more pain, Christine. This was a mistake. You kissed me only to manipulate me from hurting that blasted boy!"

"No, I kissed you because I want to be with you!"

"No, we will NOT speak of this again. You will come to me as you had in the past for music lessons only. You must master Aminta's part before my masterwork's debut. We must leave now; Reyer will need you to rehearse for the opera. Let's go."

Christine had no choice but to accept the finality of Erik's words. She now grasped that she and Erik could never be together, and she had to fulfill Raoul's plan while trying to keep the truth from Erik. She knew that this would likely kill her in the end. What she did not know was that Erik knew exactly what was occurring, and he was hell-bent on making them all pay.

---Safe House---

Stacia, overjoyed to have William safe from the fire. She was dumbfounded when she found the safe house engulfed in a torrent of flames. Her visceral reaction was to run into the flaming building to find William; however, she knew better than that.

Ever since William's tragedy at the warehouse years ago, he always made sure their cars were equipped with a fire extinguisher in case of a fire. Stopping her car at a safe distance, she rushed out and grabbed the extinguisher from the trunk. Running towards the inferno, she sprayed a way into the burning home.

Calling his name, she heard the rumbling and moaning of the building, and she realized, to her horror, that the building would soon buckle beneath the pressure. Hurrying and spraying, she coughed, smoke irritating her lungs.

Suddenly, she heard a groan of pain coming from the living room. Cold fear gripped her heart with icy fingers at the thought of him beneath a flaming support beam. To her relief, he was lying on his back on the floor without injury and appeared just fine.

Coughing, she helped lifted his form as he drifted in and out of consciousness. His scarred face contorted with pain and struggle as they made their way out of the creaking firestorm within the safe house.

Once outside, the two made it thirty yards before collapsing on the ground coughing and hacking. As pure air reached their aching lungs, the fire department and paramedics arrived to contain the fire and help them.

The arson detectives talked with the hung-over William. They decided that the fire was an accident, and William ended up paying for the house twice its worth to the owners. When everything died down, he and Stacia were left alone standing in front of the cars. He was sitting on the hood of her car, arms crossed and legs elongated. She stood in front of him with her head to the side, resembling the way a mother would her child before a scolding.

Sighing he spoke, "I suppose you are going to yell at me for being asinine."

"No, I figured that the whole near-death experience would be punishment enough. Do you know how much you frightened me? I thought you had died or were injured! How much must you test me to see how much I love you? After the last fire, I feared that you might have been still in the fire, too petrified to get out."

Dropping his head, he uncrossed his arms and spread his hands on the hood next to him.

"I love you, Stacia. What I did was not to test you; it was my inability to hold my liquor."

His attempt to lighten the situation did nothing to soothe her anxiety. Falling to her knees, she broke out in a fit of tears as William suddenly comprehended how much she loved him, how much she was upset about his erroneous behavior. Scooping her into his arms, he rested his scarred cheek atop her head, whispering how much she meant to him.

"I now know, Stacia, I cannot let you go. I need you in my life; I love you far too much to let you leave me. I am a changed man, and your happiness is my number one priority. That said; I know one way to amend all of the wrongs I have committed against you."

Raising her head to meet his hazel eyes, she smiled with love and question. Caressing the scarred and burned face she had grown to love, she kissed his lips tenderly before he spoke again.

"Stacia, I want to marry you."

That simple sentence was enough for her to snap her head to look at him in wonder and pure joy. She had waited for years for him to become her husband, and now he was offering her the one dream she had yet to attain.

Her patience and love had finally won out in the end! She and he could finally have that happy ending. Nodding enthusiastically, she handed him the engagement ring he had given her all those years ago.

Smiling broadly, he kneeled on one knee to traditionally propose for the third time. Tears formed in her eyes, she squealed, "Yes! Yes, yes, yes, I will marry you!"

He laughed genuinely, and they felt like the couple they used to be. Twirling her in his arms as they laughed and kissed with utter bliss, they dreamed of their bright future together. As Stacia waited in the car, William stood at the driver's side about to get in the car when his phone rang. Looking at the caller, he closed his eyes, inwardly cursing. He did not want to deal with _her_ now.

"Yes?" He spoke with aggravation evident in his tone.

"I want you to take care of Erik Desslar. You need to kill him."

"I have more dire things to attend to at the moment. Besides, I am returning your money that you paid me; I have no more vendettas for revenge against him."

"Well, Addams, might I remind you of someone that will pay the price of your incompetence if you do not do as I say?"

In an absolute fit of rage, he screamed into the phone as Stacia watched in a horrid fascination within the car, oblivious to the conversation.

"If you harm her, I will **kill** you, too! Don't worry; I will take care of the problem that you and your men's stupid inept idiotic selves cannot do! Do not _ever_ threaten me again, or I will_ cut_ your tongue out and place it on your child's mantle!"

Snapping the phone and getting in the car, he breathed slowly to regain his senses while the woman he loved looked at him in fear and worry. He smiled and held her hand, saying how much he loved her.

This eased her uncertainty to some degree, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head that something was not right at all. Yet, her excitement of an impending marriage made any nagging feeling futile.

---Philippe's Office---

"I do not know if I can do this, brother. Putting Christine near that masked freak is something that I do not want to do."

Philippe sat rigid in his arm chair as he closed his wearied eyes. He and Raoul had been arguing for the past hour. Philippe tried to reason with his younger brother whom he had raised while his vehement sibling did nothing but cause grief. He was risking everything: his reputation, his financial security, his life all for the sake of a simple chorus girl. It truly was beyond him.

The large office was filled with books from one wall to the other. A bright bay window lay behind the Comte's desk where he could look out to the ocean. The curtains of expensive lace were imported straight from the markets of Venice. The large oak desk was made from the dark timber of the Siberian forest.

Despite these great gifts and showings of wealth and prosper, they were virtually forgotten amidst the turmoil that both brothers were experiencing at that moment.

"Brother, you must help me whisk Christine away from the Opera house and marry her in a secluded and beautiful place…where a private ceremony can occur."

"Raoul, listen to what you are saying. This is madness! If you marry her, you will be disinherited from ever seeing our father's wealth as mandated in his will."

"Money cannot make me happy; Christine is my only chance for happiness! Surely, you can see how much I love her!"

"I do, brother. No other man, if he did not love a woman, would have gone through as much trouble as you have. However, what makes you so sure that Christine wishes to leave?"

"What do you mean? Of course, she wants to leave! She can't go anywhere without that masked freak following her! He must be dealt with before she and I can start a normal life away from Rennes!"

"Be that as it may, Raoul, she could have left the moment the masked man approached her. She could have phoned the police at any time in the span that she knew and met with him. Most people do not meet others for any reason. Are you so sure that she truly is in love with _only_ you?"

Raoul, whose red eyes flashed with anger, stood up briskly and pointed his gloved finger at his brother's face in rage. His flawlessly peach-hued face contorted as lines appeared from his anger.

"How dare you question her loyalty? She is my fiancée, and I love her _very_ much! She loves me just as much! Quit trying to sabotage my relationship and help your brother find happiness."

"I will help you, Raoul. I will help you find happiness…"

Raoul nodded and left abruptly as Philippe leaned back in his armchair and closed his eyes. Sighing he finished his sentence, "…even if the happiness you seek is not truly with Christine."

---Nadir's Apartment---

Madame Giry and Nadir were seated on his divan discussing ways to help Erik escape. Despite all that he had done, both of them had been with him so long that their lives would lose meaning if he were killed.

With all that he had done, he did not deserve to die. His intentions were never stemmed from pure evil intent.

They had come up with an alternate route should Erik need to escape. With that they could travel out of Rennes, France, and cross over to Spain without difficulty. The problem was getting Erik to leave Christine behind.

Somehow, Nadir felt within his heart that there would be finality in the end; however, he could not decipher if that finality would be Erik's fatality…

---Outside the city borders---

Paul, Damien, and Michael met in the usual abandoned warehouse that they were accustomed to meeting in to discuss the way to get rid of Erik. Once they took care of Erik and silenced him forever, then they could breathe easier.

He was a problem that they had to deal before they could continue their prosperous embezzling business. Once they could shoot him, the sooner they could be safe. Their plan had to work otherwise they would be the ones in Erik's place in a federal penitentiary never to see the light of day again.

**Author's Note: Wow, it took me a long time to update and I apologize immensely for that…College proved to be very busy for me. I had time to update this story, so I jumped on it. Please REVIEW! Two more chapters left!**

© Copyright 2007


	21. Chapter 20 The Final Confrontation

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hello all! Well, this is technically the last chapter of the story and BOY is it long and action-packed!! After this, there is only the epilogue. Thanks for all the support (and enjoyment that you all seem to have received from this story). I have enjoyed writing this immensely! I want to thank every single reviewer and reader! God bless. Feel free to let me know what you all think!**

**Another work I am working on is **_**Mind of the Misanthrope**_**, which is a good read as well. The plot is more in depth than even this one. I recommend you read that story. Please review if you choose to read it!**

_**Chapter Twenty- The Final Confrontation**_

William lay on his side of the bed; his twisted flesh stared at the beautiful sleeping form next to him. She was so gorgeous, and he was sure that her God showed him mercy by letting His angel come to him. With a pale hand, he stroked her cheek and woke her up. After the wretched phone call, his mood soured as he drove them to another safe house outside Rennes. Today, they would finally wed and he was ecstatic.

Her green eyes were hazy as she slowly woke up confused by her surroundings, but as soon as she saw him, she smiled broadly.

"Hello, my love."

Touching his marred cheek, he leaned into her hand with a sigh of contentment. He responded by leaning towards her lips. As soon as their lips touched, all of the restrained passion was released. Her moan of pleasure when his tongue entered her mouth aroused him further and he rolled atop of her. He needed her now and nothing would ruin this moment.

Stopping for a moment, they simply stared in each others' eyes. There was no denying the deep love the two shared. William would make this right; he would right all the wrongs before she became his wife. Rising to his feet, he pulled her to her feet as well.

His deep voice beckoned to her, "Come with me, my angel. I need to clear some things up before I deserve the chance to become your husband." Despite her curious countenance, she followed him to the balcony of the house that overlooked the small country road as the groups of people walked down oblivious of the two above them.

Sitting on the small settee, she looked at him with loving adoration as he kneeled before her, taking her hands into his. His marred flesh contorted as his forehead creased with thought. His hazel eyes glinted with remorse and guilt, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him to make him forget all the pain. However, she knew he must do this.

She shuddered as he stroked her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before his alluring voice spoke.

"Stacia, oh my love, I have done you so much wrong; I am afraid I do not deserve your forgiveness...again. However, I cannot live without you in my life. All of this chaos with Desslar has left you emotionally traumatized, something for which I am to blame. I pray for your forgiveness."

With her thumb, she stroked his bottom lip as he previously done hers, before whispering earnestly, "You, my beloved, will always have my forgiveness."

Solemnly, he replied, "I do not deserve it."

"If mankind got what they deserve, no one would be happy."

She incredulously looked at his astonished expression and smiled. He closed his eyes as he brought her hands to his lips. Taking a deep breath, he gathered the courage to speak once more.

"You are my soul's mate, but before I wed you, I need you to know what I have not told you. I…I would do anything to protect you; you know this. I have been ordered to kill Erik Desslar. If I do not, then she will have you killed to punish me."

"What? No, you promised me! You promised me that this vendetta with Erik was over!"

He hissed, "Yes, I know, my love! I know I promised, but I will do anything to protect you! This deal I made with this woman was set in stone at the time. In order for me to find the man who murdered my sister, I had to agree to rid the world of the masked man. Had I known that you would give me a future, I never would have agreed to it."

"Who is this woman?"

"Her name is Madeline. She is Erik's mother and she is determined to have her son murdered. I have never seen such loathing, and it's unfathomable how much she hates her own son."

"What are you going to do?"

"The problem is if I do nothing, then she will have you killed. I want a life for us, my angel. We cannot have a life together if we are constantly on the run. Yet, I do not want to break my promise to you. However, I need to let you know because you are to become my wife. Not one secret between us…That is what we promised each other. What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, and right now I don't care. All I want is to love you right now. All that matters is us."

Standing up, she smiled as she stuck her hand out to him which he accepted. Leading him back into the house, his burned flesh twist distorted as he wondered what she was planning. She led him to the bed where she sat him down at the foot. Pressing her index and middle fingers to his lips, she asked him to wait for a moment. Smiling he did as he was told.

Three minutes later she came out with a small box. Opening it, she revealed a locket. Incredulously, he took it and opened the locket to reveal what was inside. Immediately, tears sprang to his eyes as he looked from the jewelry to his fiancée in absolute adoration.

"William, I went to a custom jeweler who put these photos of your mother and sister in the locket. I know how much they meant to you and I wanted to do something in their memory."

Putting the locket back in the box and placing it on the coffee table, he pulled her to him. He kissed her lips with brutal force; their tongues explored the other's mouth while he lay down with her in his arms. His hands ached to touch her bare skin, but were temporarily satisfied with caressing her face. When she kissed his marred face, she also kissed away his salty tears.

Soon she began to leave a trail of kisses down his jaw-line and his neck where then she bit into his skin before using her tongue to alleviate the sting. He hissed with painful pleasure before groaning as heat began to build within his body. Waves of aroused pleasure began to pulse within the lower part of his body until his resolve crumbled and he ached for her. They had not been this intimate in months since he started the revenge ploy against Erik.

To his surprise, he felt her warm mouth on his chest exploring; tasting his muscular chest and abdomen as she slowly removed his shirt. His eyes began to roll up in his head as he tried to reign in his lust otherwise he truly would consummate the marriage before it even took place. Her trail of kisses was now near his naval, and his mind was clouded with desire and pure want.

Rolling over so he was on top of her, his hazel eyes searched her glazed green ones. Her lips were parted in such an inviting way that William had to struggle to keep focus. Her bottom lip quivered slightly as she elicited a small moan, "Please, William…"

Smiling, he descended upon her and their lips met together in a passionate display of their love. She opened her mouth and allowed him entrance, which he gladly plunged his tongue into her warm mouth. Thank goodness that the two were not on their feet for that kiss because if they had, their knees surely would have given way. He bit her bottom lip tenderly before whispering her name in a loving manner. Pressing his forehead on hers, he closed his eyes as he tried to regain his breath.

She grasped both sides of his disfigured face with her hands as she looked at him. Smiling, they both kissed each other's cheeks with tender loving care. After that, he rolled on his side as she did to face him. They entwined their hands next to their heads. For a minute, the two enjoyed the amorous moment before Stacia broke the silence.

"I wish that Christine would open her eyes, so Erik can make her as happy as you make me."

Stroking her cheek affectionately, he gave a gently insightful response, "As surprising as it sounds, I hope so, too, my angel. Erik has led a hard life. Even if I do not necessarily like the man, he is your friend and I will try to respect that. Despite all the complications I have with him, he and I understand each other's pain. However, his personal pains from the past far surpass mine. My mother and sister loved me, but he never had a family. His father is a jerk while his mother is out to make sure he dies."

"What are you going to do? Are you going to kill him?"

"Sweetheart, I think I may have a way to save us all from additional pain; however, you must not be apart of it for your own safety."

"I understand, beloved, and I trust you. Do what you think is right. Now…you have to go…"

"Why is that?"

"Don't you know it is bad luck to see your bride in her wedding dress on the wedding day?"

He laughed genuinely before rolling out of bed. Both of them could think of nothing except marrying each other, a dream that they had for years.

**--**

Paul was more irritated than he had been in such a long time. He was impatiently awaiting the arrival of his son, Damien, and his longtime friend and co-conspirator, Michael Tourna, to meet him in the abandoned warehouse.

Debienne and Poligny (Michael's and Paul's fathers respectively) were recently arrested for five counts of capital murder, embezzlement, fraud, organized crimes, and white collar crimes where it was rumored that the prosecution had solid evidence that would send them to prison for the rest of their lives.

Yet, the former opera managers managed to ensure their criminal sons would not be implicated in any of those crimes. So while they suffered, their sons would be free to continue their fathers' legacy.

A loud sound erupted from behind Paul, startling him. Turning around to the frost encrusted windows that let the small amount of moonlight stream in, he only saw darkness. Then appearing in the soft light, he recognized his son and Michael.

Whispering furiously, "Where have you two been? I have been waiting for nearly an hour!"

Damien, a tall and lithe young man with blue eyes and curly black hair, looked much like an angelic cherub in the face, but he was as much the monster as his father. He also had the temper of a tiger. Quiet and serene…until provoked…

"Relax, father. It's all been arranged. The idiots, Andre and Firmin, told Michael and me the whole ploy to lure Desslar out in the open so the police can take him in to custody. But we will get him first."

Paul sighed with annoyance and crossed his arms, "How do you propose we kill him in a room filled with people and police? That is a wretched idea, son! Desslar will surely have something planned."

Michael gave that signature sinister grin before replying, "Calm down, Paul. I recently received a phone call from someone who very much hates Desslar as much as we do. She can help us succeed. She after all is here to talk to us about what she has in store for that horrid man."

"A woman? Don't tell me you found some whore the masked man banged…"

A soft but beautiful voice, very reminiscent of Desslar's, reverberated through the warehouse once again startling Paul who was unaware that someone was listening. A woman emerged from the same shadows the two men had come out from.

Her eyes were a fiery gold and her deep chestnut colored hair was slightly wavy. Her high cheekbones gave her face a feminine and thin appearance. She was of healthy stature with bronze skin. However, there were slight wisps of grey in her hair and lines around her eyes that indicated her age. Yet, overall, she was still a very beautiful woman.

And a beautiful woman Paul recognized immediately as none other than Madeline Desslar, the mother of the hideous masked man. She was alive! But how?!

"Hello Paul. It has been a long time hasn't it. I bet you had not expected me to live; in fact, I can bet my life you believed I was dead. But I am not."

Paul's heart thundered in his chest before he erupted with utter rage, "You! You are the reason that bastard still breathes! You are the reason my wife is dead! Everything that has happened because of Erik is _your_ fault!"

Her eyes flashed angrily and she jabbed her finger an inch from his face. Her voice was low and filled with venom as she spoke to Paul, "You are as much as I to blame for Erik. Had you not tried to kill me during all nine months of my pregnancy, he would have been born normal! You also had plenty of chances to kill him yourself after that bitch died and you didn't! You are pathetic because you now need my help to finally kill that man. I had to come back to life in order to make sure our son's life ended!"

Damien stood shell-shocked by this revelation before he pushed past Madeline, surprising her, and shoved his father with fury.

"You cheated on my mother! You slept with this woman! How could you not tell me this?! How could you not tell me that Desslar is my half-brother?"

Paul shoved his son back before gripping his shoulders and exclaiming wildly, "He is _not_ your brother or of your blood! This woman was a slut when I met her. Who knows who that masked man's father is! He is probably some drunken crack addict from the streets. She tried to ruin my life…tried to hurt your mother with that lie. I could not let that happen, son! Tell me you understand."

Madeline crossed her arms across her chest with a smug countenance as she responded to Paul's claims.

"Damien, your father is the one who needs to be second-guessed. He did not only sleep with me; he slept with a whole brothel of women before and after me. I know who the father of my wretched child was then and I still know him now. He is not some drunken crack addict as your father claims. He is a great man. Paul, you and I both know that _we_ need to work _together_ to get rid of the masked man before he ruins all of our lives. He is close to finding out the whole truth. I had a very capable man who had every motive and desire to kill Erik, but then he got soft because of a woman. And your plan at the Masquerade Ball was ill-planned and prematurely done."

The judge folded his arms across his chest, mimicking her and pouted as his son glared disdainfully in his direction. Michael had remained silent during the exchange and he wished that he could speak so desperately that he clenched his teeth to keep from speaking out. His love for Madeline had not faded in the slightest during the two decades. He wanted to hold her to him and kiss her all over.

To this day, Paul had no idea of his betrayal and if he ever found out, Michael knew he'd pay with his life. No one ever double-crossed Paul without paying for it with his life. It simply was the way it was.

So he swallowed his words, having full faith in Madeline's ability to defend her self. He too had been surprised by the fact she had lied about her death for quite sometime. Grieving for years, he had never truly gotten over her 'death.' Two days ago, he got a phone call from her and his world suddenly had purpose once more. Building an empire under a pseudonym, she made quite a fortune and a name for herself.

Yet, she still loved him too after all these years. She had been too afraid of Paul to come out of hiding and secretly feared having children because she did not want another freak like Erik. Those two fears kept her from telling him she was alive. However while reading a newspaper from her trip to Rennes; she came across the Masquerade Ball Massacre. It was there she read about her hated son and that soft man, William Addams. She was furious at his sudden conscience, but she resolved that he would go through with it if she threatened the woman he loved.

Men were so easily manipulated by the women that hold their hearts. She should know; she almost paid with her life but had survived. After calling Michael two days ago, the two met at an upscale restaurant and retreated to her loft where they made love all night.

Nothing and _no one_ would hold her back from being with the man she loved. So, the four of them worked out their issues (withholding the necessary information) and she informed them of what they were going to do the night of her freak of son's warped opera.

--

Erik Desslar was pacing while listening to Rachmaninoff in hopes to get rid of the negative feelings and broken heart he had. Nothing soothed the raw ache that was tearing him apart from the inside out. He wanted to destroy everything around him, but that would not do him any good.

Nadir, for years, had been his only friend and conscience. And throughout the years, he had learned much about emotions and life from his Iranian police comrade. Erik knew that while he was angry, he was truly just devastated by Christine's utter betrayal and Nadir was the only person that could get through his anger to his heart.

He had an ominous plan that would get her to face the detriment she had caused his heart by her agreeing to help the police kill him. Staring into the mirror he looked at his ravaged face…if you could call it a face. With a cry of rage, he flung the mirror from the wall and threw it on the floor where it shattered into millions of pieces. His rage was not satiated so he overturned all of the furniture in the living quarters of the underground home before he was through.

Placing his back on the wall and sliding down to the ground exhausted by his antics, he put his bleeding hands over his head as he wept from the hurt that now settled in the anger's place.

The same disquietude that brought peace to people only brought him more misery because the silence just reminded him of how alone and isolated…unloved…he was. Suddenly, the door opened and Nadir entered. Not even batting an eye at the damaged room, he placed an empty duffel bag on the floor in front of the deformed man who stared emptily at him.

"This is your bag. You are leaving the country tonight. I talked with your superiors at MI-6 and they want you back. You were one of their best agents. Your supervisor Charles Dubois has already lined up field assignments for you in Zimbabwe and the British Isles."

Limply waving a white skeletal hand, Erik moaned into his other hand before responding with a groan, "No, Daroga, I am not leaving. I need to finish my business here then I will leave."

Nadir paused as he looked at the masked man before he questioned in his emotionally detached police interrogative technique, "You know about the managers' ploy, don't you?"

Erik bitterly laughed and scoffed, "You mean the idiot de Chagny's plan to have me killed. I can't say as I blame him. I'd be afraid of me too. Oh do not look at me like that Khan! You have nothing to worry about. I am not going to hurt anyone and I do not intend to die. I just need…closure…"

Nadir sighed before lowering himself to Erik's level and looked at him squarely in the face, knowing it made the usually masked man uncomfortable.

"I cannot stop you nor will I even try. Just promise me to do your best to stay alive with as little casualties as possible."

Desslar chuckled darkly before retorting loudly, "Promises are made to catch gulls with, Nadir…" Then he added softly, "But I will give you my word to your terms."

Placing a warm hand on the man's shoulder, the Iranian smiled softly before responding in his accented voice, "That is all I ask, my friend. If you need me for anything, you know where to find me."

As the Middle Eastern man began to walk towards the door, Erik's last sentence stopped him cold.

"If anything _does_ happen to me, I want you to take care of Madame Giry and little Meg. They will need the help in order to survive. This blasted opera house does not pay enough for even a rich man to survive. And make sure Christine…is happy."

Befuddled, the Persian turned around to find the room was empty. His friend had vanished into thin air, and this time, Nadir had an overwhelming sense of dread.

--

_**Premiere Night of Don Juan Triumphant**_

A loud screech erupted in the chaotic backstage, "You call zis water? A peasant's spit would taste better zan zis garbage!" Madame Carlotta with her Botox-tight face nearly frightened all of the staff as she trudged around barking orders. She threw the water down and then became enraged when a stagehand moved the location of the stagelights.

"And you! You need to fix ze lights, pronto! I need zem all on me as I enter ze stage! Vamanos!"

The stagehands and most of the ballet girls rolled their eyes in annoyance as Carlotta continued to act as if she were the boss. Then they all moved to the side as the orchestra strolled by with their instruments in their arms following their conductor.

Monsieur Reyer was a small man with wild gray hair and a wizened face, but he was a kind soul. He also was developing a headache from all the commotion, and he had not patience for the Spanish diva's fit especially that day.

"Madame, we do not have time to remodel the Opera House to your standards. We all are nervous with all the police activity here tonight, and I suggest you be silent because no one needs to create a disturbance."

It was highly unusual for Monsieur Reyer to speak out, but whenever he did, everyone listened to him and Carlotta was no exception. Christine Daae had the leading role and the Spaniard only had a minor role as instructed by the Opera Ghost although she was clearly disgruntled by this.

As the swarms of police raced around in order to find their proper place, there was an anxious feeling in the air. The Opera House was abuzz with rumors and gossip about the mysterious enigma that held such power to bring the entire police force bombarding the theater.

While the commotion was occurring, Christine was in her dressing room and had just finished getting dressed as the lead female, Aminta. Sitting down at her settee, she took some powder to blot out the puffiness and redness from her eyes. She had been crying all morning about what was ahead of her.

She did not want to hurt Erik; Lord, she loved him so much! Second doubts were eating away at her nerves and heart. More than anything, she wished she and Erik could be together for the rest of their lives, but there was no possible way.

She just had to be content with the way her life would be: married to Raoul de Chagny, have a nice luxurious life filled with all amenities, and possible children. While that life seemed great and appealing to most people her age, Christine did not wish for that future. She wanted Erik, pure and simple.

Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and said a small prayer as she set her powder to the side before heading to the stage. As she wandered down the hall, several armed police officers rushed past her with their bullet-proof vests, large weapons, helmets, and black attire.

As the fear and regret resurfaced and started to gnaw at her stomach, she became distracted as Meg and Raoul met her at the backstage entrance. Hugging both of them, she waited for one of them to speak as they both had a peculiar look on their faces. Her fiancé was the first to take the opportunity.

"Christine, there you are! We have been worried that you may have run away!" His jovial tone revealed that he was joking but Christine did not find the humor. She truly did wish to run away and never turn back. She was in love with two men, but her heart belonged to Erik first and always would.

Meg interrupted her thoughts as she pulled her hand and excitedly spoke, "Christine, come! The premiere of the opera is in ten minutes. We need to get in position before Mama kills us both!"

Smiling softly, Christine tried to swallow the dread that had risen and settled in her throat. Wringing her wrists, she took her place behind the stage and waited for the show's beginning in order to bring an end to her loved one.

**--Meanwhile--**

Madame Giry rushed past the police officers as she spotted the infamous Afghan hat that patrolled the theater among the audience in the aisles. With his back to her, Nadir did not hear her approach and startled when she grabbed his arm.

"Nadir, what are we going to do? How are we going to help Erik with all of the police here that are looking for him?"

When she saw his solemn face, dismay filled her being because she knew that they could do nothing to help their masked friend. He hugged her, which shocked her because he always had a phobia about public displays of affection. Yet, she was not going to complain. She was going to enjoy his warm embrace.

"I am so sorry, Antoinette. I tried to get him to leave the country and return to England. He refused until he goes through with his plan. Yet, he is well aware of Raoul de Chagny's arrangement to have him arrested or killed. There is a chance he is prepared…Don't look at me like that, Anne. I can do nothing to stop him. You know how unruly and uncontrollable he is when he gets like this!"

"I know, Nadir. I know. However, I am still afraid for him. He is like our brother, and it would kill me to lose him. I also worry that innocent people will get hurt in the crossfire."

Turning her back she crossed her arms and sighed contentedly when Nadir took her in his arms once more. Whispering in her ear, his comforting words spread through her form like water down the throat on a hot day, "Do not fret, Anne. I will do whatever it takes to make sure no one is hurt during the unraveling of this plan."

Soon he let her go when William Addams and Stacia approached them in the crowd. They all greeted each other before moving to the shadows in order to have more privacy to talk. Once they all were out of earshot from the nosy crowd and police, Nadir spoke first.

"What are you two doing here? I thought you called and told me that you were going to get married tonight. Anne and I have this handled."

Five squad members raced by before William responded sarcastically, "Yes, I can clearly see that you two have this situation handled."

Rolling his eyes, the Iranian implored, "Addams, get your lover and get out. I have no idea what Erik has planned but whatever it is, it isn't good. You better be on the safe side and leave now before things get worse."

At that moment, Carlotta's screeching reverberated around the auditorium. She was causing a scene by screaming at Christine who stood pale and fearful in front of the audience who now took their seats.

"Too late now…"

Suddenly, the lights flickered on and off and a loud boom erupted as screams echoed throughout the theater. When the lights finally came back on, Carlotta was screaming while holding her bloodied head with a busted light lying next to her on the ground. Some of the backstage employees came and helped her off the stage as she moaned and complained the whole way. The audience was dead silent then erupted into a fit of applause, ignorant of the dangerous action that had just transpired by Erik's hand.

Stacia and William made eye contact before he departed to backstage as the curtain lifted for Act I of Erik's masterpiece. Nadir soon followed his suit, leaving the two women behind to do nothing but wait and watch.

Backstage, the burned man disregarded the shrieks and snickers from the onlookers as he made a straight bee-line towards Christine who was waiting for her introduction. Right when she was to make her debut, William yanked her backwards. Visibly shaken, her eyes narrowed when she saw him.

"You! I have to go out there now. Erik is waiting for me."

"You listen to me Daae. I know you love that masked fiend, and I am trying to make things right for my fiancée. Stacia and Erik are friends, and she wants you two to be together because you and Desslar love each other. To please her, I am here to try to convince you not to go through with this. Go and find Desslar. Escape while you two still have time."

Her blue eyes flickered with conflicting emotion and question. Then she crossed her arms across her chest and defiantly looked back at that badly burned man.

"You think you know me I suppose…Well, you don't. Your lover needs to mind her own business. I am engaged to Raoul. I love him. You and that woman need to butt out of our lives."

William's fists clenched before he grabbed her wrist to prevent her from moving to the stage. His anger was obvious as he calmly yet venomously spoke to her.

"Because of you and Erik Desslar, the entire police force is out there. The audience is full of innocent people that most likely will get hurt and your indecision is breaking your fiancé's heart. Do not think for one second that you are fooling any one. Raoul is not a dumb man. Even if Erik dies, de Chagny will see the grief and love in your eyes…for _another man_. I guarantee that. So you decide. If you step out on that stage and innocent people get hurt, it will be entirely on your head."

With that said he walked away. Christine glanced from his retreating form then back at the stage. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the spotlight on the stage. Monsieur Reyer had played the same intro music at least four times during her delay and the audience was more attentive now that she had appeared.

Beginning her aria, she knew that she had sealed Erik's fate with her decision. Raoul and the managers watched from Box Four with keen interest. He was looking for that infernal masked man while the police squadrons were hidden throughout the Opera House also waiting for the arrival of their target.

Stacia greeted her beloved when he and Nadir returned. She kissed him and they retreated to the same shadows when they were speaking before. Madame Giry and Nadir shared a knowing glance before they took their seats on the far right, wary of what was about to transpire.

"Did you speak to her?"

"Yes, Stacia, and it did no good. She is determined to go through with this murder ploy. She thinks it's the right choice…that we are merely trying to deter her from what is right."

"How can she believe that this is right?"

"The same way I believed that murdering Desslar was the right thing to do…until love showed me I was wrong."

"I love you, William. Promise me that you won't do anything to jeopardize our future."

"Oh Stacia, I love you so much."

They embraced and kissed passionately, yet she was aware that he did not make the promise nor would he likely do so. Before she could respond, he tore himself from her embrace and left her alone in the shadows as he disappeared.

**--On the Stage--**

'This was it!' Her mind screamed. The passionate duet between Aminta and Don Juan, and her heart was beating so fast, she got light-headed. The audience was enraptured by the powerful music of her Erik's masterpiece. She had not seen her masked man the entire time and was beginning to feel elation at the prospect he was not coming and had escaped.

Yet as she concluded her part of the aria, she instantly recognized her maestro's voice as the counterpart of _Point of No Return_. Immediately the audience's attention shifted from her to the black cloaked hooded figure to the left of the stage. Everyone became entranced by the magnitude and mesmerizing quality of the man's voice. Even the police squads, managers, and the Viscount were all hypnotized.

Christine shuddered beneath his ominous gaze, for only she could see those gold orbs that bore into her eyes. Slowly approaching on foot, he sang the decrescendo as he came closer to the woman who had shattered his heart.

Erik then outstretched his arms and slowly enclosed them around her waist, pulling her back to his chest while singing intimately in her ear. She shivered with desire and fear when he roamed his long fingers across her shoulder's flesh. His lips lowered and kissed the nape of her neck when she began the crescendo part of her song.

Closing her eyes in ecstasy, she continued to sing her heart out for the man that held her. He was all that mattered. Too engulfed in their ardent love song, the two did not heed the danger that surrounded them.

Above them in Box Four, Raoul watched in horror at his fiancée's behavior. She looked like she was in an erotic trance as the man held her. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes glistened with tears and remorse; he knew that the man was Desslar.

He bolted to his feet and cried out, "There he is! That masked monster is him! Shoot him! Shoot him! Kill him now!"

Christine gasped in horror as the stage's lights flashed back on as the audience gave shrieks of surprise. Erik was stunned momentarily but was about to flee when the woman he loved did the unthinkable. Ripping of the mask, she threw it aside revealing his wretchedly deformed face to most of Rennes.

Cries of disgust and repugnance echoed through Erik's mind as he tried to understand why she committed another betrayal. Searching her eyes, he found no answer. All of the sudden, he heard the cocking of several weapons, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do at that moment was die.

Unfortunately for him, his wishes would be disregarded. Raoul, impatient by the police's caution, grabbed the pistol from its holster, ignoring the man's protest, and took aim. William lunged for the gun out of nowhere and ended up causing the gun to go off, missing Erik by mere inches.

Now the audience members were on their feet and rushing to the locked doors or any other exit in a frightful attempt to escape. As William and Raoul fought for the weapon, the gun went off several more times hitting two people, the stage background, and William himself.

Clutching his abdomen, the burned man tried to regain his breath as the Viscount tried to reload the weapon. Christine and Erik were still on stage, shell-shocked. The police did not try to shoot for the theater was in utter chaos. There was no clear shot and now they tried to keep the people calm.

William stepped on the balcony's edge to the astonishment of the managers who were pallid by now. Philippe rushed past them in order to retrieve the gun from his brother's grasp. Stacia pushed past the throng of panicked people to see her lover facing the ceiling near the new chandelier.

"William!"

Her cry fell on deaf ears as he leapt from the edge to grab the chandelier's rope. Holding on to it, he was lowered instantly while the chandelier went up, increasing in speed towards the roof. Crying out in terror, her mind was momentarily stunned before the FBI part of her flew into action. She grabbed the two injured people along with policeman Nadir and they moved them out of the way just in time as the chandelier plowed into the ceiling, emitting an explosion of glass and sparks spiraling down upon the already panicked crowd.

By that time, the police had evacuated most of the theater but still there were some people left that were now lacerated by the chandelier glass or burned by the fires that now started. William rushed backstage while in Box Four, Raoul finally pushed his brother out of the way.

Taking aim, his mind slipped further into jealous madness. His finger put some pressure on the trigger the instant William Addams yanked the lever to release the trapdoor beneath Erik and Christine's feet. The gunshot rang out as Raoul saw that his fiancée had escaped to the bowels of the theater with his enemy.

"Damn!"

Taking the gun, he rushed out of the Box and ran downstairs towards the trapdoor where they had slipped through. He pushed past the injured people and ran over the glass, his shoes emitting crunching sounds. When he made it to the stage he was about to dive in the open hole, but suddenly another man shoved him to the ground.

"Get out of my way! What the hell is wrong with you?! That monster has my fiancée!"

The man glared down at him, his ugly burned face distorted with anger and hostility. He gave a derisive snort of laughter before he contemptuously spoke to the fallen de Chagny.

"I am not going to move. Christine is in love with Desslar, and no matter how much you yell or berate, that isn't going to change. You know as well as I do that she is in love with him. That is why you are so angry. Leave them be or I will make sure you never interfere again!"

Grinding his teeth, the handsome face contorted with rage as his blue eyes flashed with resentment and secretly grief. With one swing of his leg, he knocked his opponent's feet from underneath him. William hit the ground hard, his breath knocked out of him from the sheer force of his fall.

Blood began to pour out from his previous gunshot wound as he could only helplessly watch Raoul rush past his fallen form to the door that led to the underground caverns of the Opera House. His head fell back as his vision blurred.

"William!"

The voice of his beloved brought him back to reality. She held his head on her chest as she stroked the side of his burned face. He wrapped his arms around her, seeking comfort and healing only her love could bring.

Madame Giry ran to them with a medical kit. During her time in Iran, she had become a trained nurse in her spare time thanks to Nadir. Thank God! She and Stacia would be able to save William who was already starting to lose consciousness.

While they tried to save his life, Nadir was helping the police evacuate and stabilize the victims that had suffered greatly due to the chandelier's explosion. The managers and Philippe were outside, trying to play damage control with the media and reporters that had arrived moments ago.

If only they knew how close they were about to come to total disaster, for there was a plethora of dynamite underneath the Opera House to wipe out at least twenty blocks around the nearly destroyed theater.

--Beneath the Opera House--

"Erik? Erik, please say something!"

Much to her annoyance, Christine received no response from the unmasked man who held her wrist in his iron-grip. She could only see his silhouette in the dimly lit tunnel as he led her further into the bowels of the theater. He refused to say a word to her, and although she could understand why, it was driving her insane.

Soon the tunnel led to the underground lake where the boat knocked against the dock as the waves slowly rolled ashore. Still reticent, Erik helped her in the boat as he climbed in after her. Picking up the oar, he rowed the boat past the raised portcullis to the dock on the opposite side of the lake.

When the boat touched the shore, the former MI6 agent gruffly but quietly spoke for the first time, "Get out."

Christine hesitated for only a moment, which enraged her loved one further. His eyes glistened with tears and fury as he yanked her out of the boat when she did not do as he commanded. With a cry she fell to the ground and looked up at his pitiful face.

His sunken black sockets seemed to swallow his gold eyes while his pale complexion did nothing to hide the blue and red veins that now were more visible due to his fury. His thin layer of skin was stretched taut over his prominent skull as his limp hair clung to his forehead from sweat. His two slits for nostrils flared as he sucked in gulps of air instead of breathing normally.

His skeletal hands clutched the sides of his bony face as he emitted a combination between a moan of pain and groan of anger. His white, thin lips twisted up into a sinister grin as he snarled at her, "You actually thought you and your lover could succeed in killing me?! After everything I have done for you; you betray me time and time again! You are no better than a woman who pretends to love a man only to suck the life out of him and move on to her next victim!"

Christine slowly stood on her two shaking legs as she held the side of dock's railing. She spoke, aghast at his cruel words, "Erik, you did not believe me when I told you of my feelings for you. You accused me of lying…"

He raged, "You _did_ lie! All you have ever done to me was lie!"

"You lied to me about my father's death! You are not so innocent in this as well!"

"I _never _attempted to portray myself as innocent nor have I agreed to take part in trying to kill someone. You did that on your own!"

"I felt that I had no choice, Erik! I felt you would be better off if…"

He recoiled from her words as he bitterly retorted, "If what? If I died? How would I be better off, Christine? Oh…I see. You believe because I look like a corpse, I would be better off if I actually became one. Instead of twisting my heart and feelings for these past months, all you could have done was tell me you have fallen in love with someone else. I would have walked away and left you to your happiness."

Christine, tears falling down her face like rivers, slowly approached her heartbroken masked man and softly apologized. Immediately, he yanked his head up and his deformed face stared into her tear-stricken one. His gold eyes that once held that immense fire, the fire to his soul, now were dull. Her heart dropped as she literally saw that fire diminish with her three words. 'I am sorry…'

He turned from her and collapsed to his knees, the burdens all of the sudden overwhelming him. She tried to go to him and offer him her life, heart, soul, anything to stop his pain; however, he emitted a heart-wrenching cry of agony. That cry seemed to paralyze any and all of her movements and attempts to soothe his anguish.

Stooping down she tried to wrap her arms around him, but he slapped her arms away. He shakily stood on his feet and went inside the house as the young singer followed. Shutting the door behind her, she merely watched him pace the room. His hideous visage contorted and distorted like some sick, twisted carnival side show as he moved from side to side.

Suddenly a shadow emerged from the hallway and Nadir appeared. Sighing, Christine tried to speak but was cut off by Erik's angry yells.

"Get out of here, Khan!"

"No Erik," the man in the corner calmly replied.

Then another shadow emerged to reveal Madame Giry. With a cry of rage, the formerly masked man continued to rave at the two people who dared to intrude into his territory and tell him what to do.

"I am so sick of everyone interfering in _my_ damn life! I want everyone to get out! This is between Christine and me!"

Nadir tried to step closer to his friend whose back was turned to him, but Erik's chilling words stopped him dead in his tracks, "If you take one more step, Khan, I will set off the thousand pounds of gunpowder spread throughout the underground cellars. That will wipe out at least ten blocks of Rennes including this very theater!"

Immediately, the policeman halted while Christine gasped, appalled and horrified at her loved one's madness. How could she have driven him to such despair?

"Erik, how could you take more innocent lives?!"

"Well, Christine, how could you break my heart in two?!" He mocked her tone before he angrily stalked over and picked up a chair, broke it into pieces, and threw the shards down except for a chair leg.

His pallid skeletal face whirled around as his gold eyes flared with the intense fire only incensed by his rage toward Nadir and Antoinette. His beautiful voice was marred by his deep torment and fury as he whispered viciously, "Get the hell out now or else I will make sure no one finds you two. You were supposed to protect me…You were supposed to help me…"

Nadir astounded by his accusation rebutted, "I have protected you, Erik. Remember Iran? I helped you escape when the leader wanted you to be assassinated. I have been your conscience for years, even helping you in your grief when Luciana was killed."

In his madness, he could not understand what was going on around him. His mind further travelled into the past as old emotions and traumas caught up with him. Antoinette spoke quietly, trying in vain to lower his agitation level while Christine helplessly watched.

"Erik, I have been there for you every time you needed me. We both have tried to protect you and help you, but to whom Christine's heart belongs was not our choice to make. We cannot make her choose you!"

Wrapping his arms around his deformed face, Erik moaned with recognition and woe as the reality of her words settled in. He knew she was right…and he hated she was right. Sighing, he released his grip on the wooden leg and it clamored against the floor before he turned his back to the three of them.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he spoke, his back turned to them, fearing his newly gripped sanity would slip with the sight of the woman he loved and the only friends he had in the world.

"Please go. You speak the truth, Khan. And you, too, Antoinette. Will you go if I promise to stop making more chaos? I will not trouble you two any further. I will not do anymore harm to the innocent."

Nadir and Madame Giry glanced at each other apprehensively, but Christine finally found her voice and convinced them that things were calm now. With two unsure but resigned nods, the two of them left their masked man and his former pupil alone.

Once they were across the shore, Nadir still felt some unknown sense of dread but he continued to lead Anne out of the catacombs, leaving what would happen next up to Erik and Christine.

"Erik, I do love you. I have loved you for a long time…I-I let my fears consume me…and lately, I have b-become someone I don't even recognize. Can you please forgive me? I know it's asking for a lot. Erik, I feel like I am rambling…Will you please say something?"

He had not moved from his original position and did not make one movement during Christine's confession. Sighing, he looked down at his shoes and noticed that one had a scuff mark on it. He also took note of the missing button on his coat and loose thread on one of his cuffs. As odd as it appeared, he was quite perturbed by those flaws because it seemed to him that nothing about him was good. He was only made up of flaws and how could anyone love that…

"Christine! Christine, answer me! What has that monster done to you?!"

Both Erik and Christine turned to face the door, knowing that Raoul de Chagny was rapidly approaching. He always had a habit of interfering at the worst moment. All of the calm that had finally taken over Erik suddenly left him as the jealous, murderous rage returned to take its place.

Christine knew it as soon as his gold eyes lit up with fire and his posture became rigidly straight. Looking toward the door, she could find no words to stop or warn her childhood friend of the danger he was about to face by walking through that door.

A loud raucous sound blasted in the room, and to her horror, she saw that the door was splintered near a small yet unmistakable hole. The bullet had lodged itself in the opposite wall while Raoul let himself in, aiming the pistol right at the deformed man.

Erik made no movement other than to cross his arms and his massive height menacingly loomed over the two of them. He would not be deterred from some pompous aristocratic brat. The skull for a head became alive with the fire for two eyes and black abyss for a mouth as it descended towards its target.

With a small cry of surprise, Christine was pushed behind her music maestro as he shielded her from the Viscount's gaze. Raoul pushed past the door and invaded the house, determined to kill the monster and rescue his fiancée from his wretched grasp.

"Christine, I have come. Do not be afraid. We will end this nightmare once and for all. We will be able to have our future together as husband and wife…like we have talked about!"

Pointing the gun at his enemy's head, Raoul gently put slight pressure on the trigger before his hand dropped it instantly as the Erik snapped his wrist to release the Punjab lasso around his neck. Within moments, the tables had turned in the MI6 agent's hands as he brought the younger man to his knees.

With a sneer, he moved out of the way to let Christine see his handiwork. His melodic voice was distorted as it dripped with sarcasm, "It appears, my dear, that we have a guest…a much unwanted one at that. Whatever shall we do with him? Hm? Perhaps we can throw him in the lake with the rest of the useless waste Rennes tends to throw away. No? Well, I am sure I can think of some way to get rid of this waste of breath."

Raoul's blue eyes blazed with hostility as he vainly struggled to free his self from the lasso's deadly grip. He clawed at it which caused his enemy to tsk tsk at him for his pathetic attempts. Christine grabbed Erik's arm and implored him to stop and let Raoul go.

"Please, Erik. If you love me…if you have any compassion, you will let him go."

"Compassion?! Ha! Why show something the world never showed me?! No, Christine, you have manipulated my feelings far too long. Now I am in control!"

Raoul was beginning to feel light-headed from the effects of his oxygen supply being slowly depleted, but he looked at Christine. His disheveled evening wear matched the dirt that covered his perfect complexion while his once crisp golden hair was wet and limp. His eyes were as blue as the day she met him as a child.

In her heart, she felt pity for her childhood friend for his unrequited love and fear that Erik would take his life for a vain purpose. She had created this entire situation. If only she had told her former mentor her _true_ feelings and had ended her relationship with her friend, none of these horrible events would have happened.

"Let her go, you monster! She loves me, but you can't accept that. There is a large group of police and military personnel heading down here to hunt you down. Accept that you are defeated and leave. Leave and you may yet live."

A maniacal laugh was the response to the Viscount's suggestion.

"Ha! Do you honestly think I am afraid of you or your kind, boy? I fear no one and nothing!"

"Except unrequited love!"

At that vocal outburst, Erik tightened the lasso which caused Raoul to sputter and choke. Christine cried out and rushed to her friend's side. No matter her feelings for Erik, she certainly did not want any one to die or suffer because of them.

"Erik, stop! Please stop! I will do whatever you want if you just let him go! You have his gun. He is unarmed!"

For a moment, the cloud that covered those gold eyes lifted and he sadly responded, "You would do whatever I wanted except love me and accept me as I am: a sad, hideous man."

Then that wall was back up again as he slightly loosened the lasso because Christine asked him to do so. He was so angry that his body was literally shaking with the rage that he had withheld for so long…yet she knew his heart was breaking also. And that shattered hers as well.

Raoul had grown silent as he saw something strange overcome his love, something he had not seen before-courage. Standing up, she approached Erik who merely watched her curiously but also never loosened his hold on the lasso.

Whispering with that beautiful voice, she glanced sorrowfully at her fiancé before returning to meet Erik's eyes with her gorgeous blue eyes, "Erik, the world may never have shown you compassion, but I am prepared to do so."

With that said, she brought his head down to hers and their lips met. If only fireworks could describe the depth of the passion that kiss brought them both! At first both were awkward and unsure, but soon their love took over and they instinctively deepened the kiss.

Raoul struggled once more against the lasso as he cried out indignantly from the spectacle. Inside he knew that this was the beginning of the end. He knew that Christine was truly lost to him now and it devastated him.

Christine gasped in shock when her maestro pulled away from her, the cold air washed over her body as his warm body left. He turned his back to her and looked down. Erik closed his eyes in an odd cross between ecstasy and utter despair because he received his first kiss from the woman he loved; yet, that kiss had come with a price.

The price was to save the man she loved…the woman _he loved _who loved someone else. In perhaps one of the most deciding moments of his life, Erik's small spark of sanity took hold and he realized that he could never hold her to him against her will. If her spirit died, then he would die along with it.

All he ever wanted was for her to be happy, and now he recognized that he must do whatever it takes to ensure that even if it means she needed to be with another man…As utterly painful and difficult as that was going to be.

Heaving a sigh, he whispered, "I appreciate your confession, Christine, but you are merely saying it out of pity. I have no fight left in me. Just go; marry the boy…Just leave now and be happy. That's all I ever wanted for you in the first place."

Fear and panic gripped her so that she could not speak or respond. Her silence only seemed to support his prior statement and so he turned to look at her tear-filled eyes and quivering lip. His gold eyes had diminished to a dull hazel while her blue eyes reminded him of the ocean she so loved. Another fragment of her he would forever be haunted by…should he survive the rest of the night. He loosened the Punjab lasso enough for Raoul to take it off his head. The Viscount was numb from pain and trauma as he tried to regain focus.

"Listen to me, de Chagny. You must take the eighth and tenth cellars. Once you travel them both, you will come to the end of the catacombs and there will be a ladder. Climb it and it will lead you out to the city. Take Christine. Guard her with your life and make her the happiest woman alive. Give her the life I could only dream of giving her."

Nodding dumbly, the Viscount headed towards the door while Christine stood rigidly in the same position where she had kissed Erik.

"Erik, please…"

"No, Christine, don't speak. My grip on my sanity is somewhat fragile and I fear that anymore of your confessions will send me to the grave…Well…I feel defeated anyhow. Please go. GO! Get out of here! Get out now! I don't want to see your face anymore! LEAVE! LEAVE ME NOW!"

With one gulp of fear, she and Raoul turned on their heels and ran out of his house, slamming the door behind her as he collapsed to his knees and wept bitterly from the ache that now was spreading throughout his entire body.

Christine and Raoul were rapidly approaching the second boat tied further down the dock, her thoughts were jumbled together and her heart felt a million pounds heavy. More tears fell down her face much to her shock and chagrin. She had never felt so much heartbreak and sorrow in her life other than losing her father…

All of the sudden, she shrieked when a pair of firm arms wrapped themselves around her. With all of her strength she kicked the offender who let out a loud grunt before releasing her. Facing the person who had tried to get her, she recognized who he was. William Addams stood halfway in the shadows, breathing heavily, clutching his wounded side as he tried to gather breath to speak.

Christine pressed a hand over her chest, feeling her rapid heartbeat. "What are you doing here? Have you come to hurt Erik?"

Chuckling darkly and taking gulps of air, he responded sarcastically, "I believe, Mademoiselle, you have hurt him far more than I ever could. Yet that is not the point. Your fiancé, de Chagny, has quite the aim. He seems to have shot me while trying to shoot the man you _truly_ love."

Peering at him queerly, Christine was unsure of what to make of this man who had made it no secret how much he hated her lover. Yet, here he was acting concerned over this man he once said he hated.

Raoul shook his head as he heard the dogs barking in the distance. Desperately he tried to grab Christine's hand, "Christine, we need to go. The police are coming! We need to leave if we ever are going to get that chance to marry and be happy!"

Indecisively, she looked between the burned man and her fiancé as she tried to decide what to do. However, William stood in front of Raoul and looked directly at her, speaking from his heart. He did not want her to leave without hearing what he had to say.

"Look, I know that I am not your favorite person nor am I likely to be invited to your future wedding anytime soon. However, you and I _both_ know that if you get on that boat and rush back to marry your fiancé, a man you do _not_ love; you will regret it until your dying breath."

"I know, William. But what choice do I have if he is telling me he does not want to see my face? That he wants me to leave him?"

"Oh foolish girl!" Coughing violently, he waited until the spell subsided before he continued despite the fiery pain that was plaguing his body.

"Look at my wretched face…My body is riddled with the same scars as my face. Yet, I have the love of a beautiful woman. She loves me! Erik has those same scars…and far worse scars from a painful and tumultuous past. He has the opportunity to be happy with the woman who loves him for simply himself. He just doesn't see it, Christine. He cannot see that you love him because he does not believe any one is capable of loving him. Go to him! Turn and go back now, before you lose the chance at being with the man you truly love forever!"

"I love him so much, William! You are right. I need him to know that I _honestly_ love him with all of my heart and soul. I _want_ to spend the rest of my life with him…I do not know why you are doing this, but thank you for preventing me from making the biggest mistake of my life."

With a firm nod of his head, the burned man answered, "You are most welcome, Christine. Stacia has gotten me to see the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel. I was so absorbed in trying to get revenge; I made the same mistake as Erik Desslar in that I totally had tunnel vision. I failed to see the woman that I had loved from the moment I laid my eyes one her had not stopped loving me because I had lost confidence in our love. She did not lose confidence in me. If you know your love will survive and never die, then you run to that person and you never turn back. You never regret that."

Nodding, Christine now knew he spoke the truth. She was ready to fly into Erik's arms and be with him. She had been so wrong but now she had the chance to make all those wrongdoings right. She needed him as much as he needed her if not more.

Turning on her heel, she was heading back to the door when she gasped because the man she was running to was at the threshold of the door and had heard everything that was said. His hand gripped the doorframe as he tried to process what had happened. Christine loved him…Christine loved him! It was possible! She had loved him for so long and he was too pig-headed to hear her!

His joy took over his body and he ran to her, taking her in his arms. Holding her tight to his form, they both laughed and relished in the feel of touching their bodies. They were meant to be. Looking at her, Erik's body immediately burst into flames of passion. How he wanted to kiss those beautiful lips…How he wanted to spend the rest of his days worshipping her body, soul, and mind!

Raoul stood next to the burned man, unable to deny it any longer. Christine, the woman he loved, was truly in love with someone else. Swallowing his pride, he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to wash away the pain that now was engulfing his entire being. He knew what he had to do. He had to ensure that his former fiancée was safe and could run away with the man he had grown to hate. As much as it stung, he knew that Erik did love her, and she seemed happy with him.

Without a word or farewell to his childhood friend and lover, he took the second boat across the shore. Christine noticed he was leaving, but somehow a goodbye would have been too painful for the both of them to endure. Perhaps acceptance of what was the truth was the best way to say goodbye, especially to one's fantasies. Instead, she closed her eyes and buried her self in Erik's willing and loving arms.

Their loving and tender moment was ruined by the sound of the police and the K9 units attempting to locate the masked phantom who had nearly destroyed the entire theater. Unable to stop himself, William urged them to escape.

"You do not have time to delay! You two must leave now!"

A second thought was not needed, for Erik regained his senses and immediately whisked Christine into his arms before heading to the eighth and tenth cellars. William was left alone on the shore to await the arrival of the police as he ensured the two of them would have time to escape fully.

He knew that his wife would be very proud of him for what he sacrificed and did because he loved her that much…just as Raoul sacrificed his happiness and future in order to ensure the woman he loved would be happy.

Try as they all might, they would soon find out that Fate has a way of jumbling and mangling people's lives before finally leaving them to a path that they would never seem themselves on.

**Author's Note: This is the longest chapter I have written thus far. I hope it was all worth it, too! Please review and let me know what you think. I hope to conclude this story within the next week…I pray you have enjoyed this roller coaster of a ride. Trust me, all loose ends will be mended by the Epilogue.**

© Copyright 2008


	22. Chapter 21 Epilogue: Atonement

Chapter 1- As Fate Would Have It

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Well, we have arrived at the conclusion of this story. I have particularly enjoyed writing this (forgive the delays in updating), but I am also very happy to conclude it as well. You all have been very kind, and I know that you will probably be surprised by this story's outcome…**

**With that said, the conclusion has arrived. What will become of the characters? Will former friends reunite? What happened to the characters you have grown to love or hate?**

**The answer lies seven months later…**

**­**_**Epilogue- Atonement**_

Christine found it hard some days to believe that she and Erik had gotten married seven months ago. And the marriage so far had been seven months of complete wedded bliss. He could not have been a better husband even though he seemed to disbelieve this.

It was not long after they had gotten married that the former opera singer discovered she was three months pregnant. Although her masked lover had his worries about being a father and the chance the child would inherit his deformity, she with the help of Nadir, Stacia, and Madame Giry were able to alleviate any of his reservations.

Now at nearly five and half months pregnant, she found it difficult to move or sit or breathe or just be a human. Yet, Erik was a godsend because he never left her side except for work purposes, and he was always willing to do whatever or get whatever she wished for whether it was a craving, need, or help.

More surprisingly, her masked husband had become close friends with his former enemy, William Addams. Although she and Stacia were slightly worried about the two being in the same room together, their fears proved useless. The men kept in constant touch with each other, seeking the other's opinion or advice with job or personal related issues.

Christine knew it was good for Erik to have friends; he would feel less isolated from the world. Stacia and William both returned to their job positions in the FBI and CIA with great respect for their role in taking down Debienne and Poligny, the European crime lords.

After William helped Christine and Erik Desslar take flight the premiere night of _**Don Juan**_, he found some gasoline that Erik had stored in one of his closets and then he torched the masked man's home so that there could be no clues or evidence leading to Desslar's whereabouts.

Once the house had burned to the ground, he sat down on the dock while he tried to regain his breath until the policemen and their dogs came across the lake in boats. Raoul had told them that he searched the catacombs for any sign of the masked fiend and his fiancée but his search had come up empty.

MI6 agents came down to Rennes and consulted with the police department's chief, convincing them that Desslar was on strict orders to find evidence about the nefarious activities of the former theater managers.

In essence any investigation or charges against Agent Desslar was dropped and the infamy of what the Opera Ghost soon died out completely with some terrorist attacks and a serial killer's rampage.

Raoul had turned to his father's company in order to avoid dealing with his heartbreak, and his brother-father figure, Philippe, had become worried about his younger brother's state of mind. His mind flashed back to the time he and Raoul had a conversation about his brother's relationship with Christine.

_"Brother, you must help me whisk Christine away from the Opera house and marry her in a secluded and beautiful place…where a private ceremony can occur."_

"_Raoul, listen to what you are saying. This is madness! If you marry her, you will be disinherited from ever seeing our father's wealth as mandated in his will."_

_"Money cannot make me happy; Christine is my only chance for happiness! Surely, you can see how much I love her!"_

"_I do, brother. No other man, if he did not love a woman, would have gone through as much trouble as you have. However, what makes you so sure that Christine wishes to leave?"_

_"What do you mean? Of course, she wants to leave! She can't go anywhere without that masked freak following her! He must be dealt with before she and I can start a normal life away from Rennes!"_

"_Be that as it may, Raoul, she could have left the moment the masked man approached her. She could have phoned the police at any time in the span that she knew and met with him. Most people do not meet others for any reason. Are you so sure that she truly is in love with only you?"_

_Raoul, whose red eyes flashed with anger, stood up briskly and pointed his gloved finger at his brother's face in rage. His flawlessly peach-hued face contorted as lines appeared from his anger._

_"How dare you question her loyalty? She is my fiancée, and I love her very much! She loves me just as much! Quit trying to sabotage my relationship and help your brother find happiness."_

"_I will help you, Raoul. I will help you find happiness…"_

_Raoul nodded and left abruptly as Philippe leaned back in his armchair and closed his eyes. Sighing he finished his sentence, "…even if the happiness you seek is not truly with Christine."_

And Comte Philippe de Chagny had kept his promise. Although, that process of trying to help his brother's well-being had been quite taxing on the elder brother. His once mostly black hair had now become sprinkled with gray throughout and he had developed slight lines at his eyes and corners of the mouth. However, he was quite handsome still.

While Raoul tried to patch his bleeding and broken heart, his much loved brother took them both around the world for de Chagny Corporate business meetings. The change in scenery always seemed to slightly liven up the depressed younger man until he heard a familiar song or saw a blonde haired woman walking down the street and soon he was drowning in sorrow once more.

At one point, Raoul had even tried to take his own life due to his deep unhappiness, but Philippe found his unconscious form next to pills in enough time to save his brother's life. It was that time when Philippe finally turned to someone for help in his desperation to keep his brother just alive.

After contacting Madame Giry, he sought her advice. She had told him that maybe he needed a friend. He had agreed and Antoinette with Megan Giry ended up moving near the de Chagny mansion in Manchester (at the Comte's expense of course).

To this day, the elder de Chagny did not know what Madame Giry did or said that comforted his beloved younger brother but somehow she brought him out of his self-pitying phase.

Even though Raoul _never fully_ recovered from his broken heart, he had been extremely successful in moving on with his life. He and Megan Giry ended up falling in love and were planning on a winter wedding ceremony. Madame Giry and Philippe surprisingly approved of the union, both too weary of heartache to care about society's impression of them.

At that point, Raoul's happiness was central to Philippe; though his younger brother was excommunicated from their father's last will Philippe ensured the fortune to Raoul in case of his own death.

All in all, everyone seemed to have found their happy endings and that was Philippe's only wish for his brother and the Girys.

William and Stacia finally took time to take their three week honeymoon where they made love day in and day out at beautiful places around the world. Finally, they returned to Quantico, Virginia so she could get field work in as well as some training.

Their jobs took up much of their time, but they always found time for each other. William had to switch job positions in the Central Intelligence Agency from a field agent to an analyst. At one time, he would have loathed having a desk job but he was content because he had the woman he loved in his arms every night.

Stacia took herself off active field operations and received a position as a criminal profiler. The Director officially sent her next assignment for Seattle, Washington where there was a serial killer who was kidnapping children and torturing them to death.

With her investigation and William's help, they were able to locate the depraved man within six weeks of searching and sifting through the evidence. Though she excelled in investigation and law enforcement, Stacia never grew close to Christine for several reasons. One reason was that Christine was apprehensive and suspicious of her husband's friendship with the FBI agent and the other reason was that they did not really need a friendship because their husbands were enough for them. Yet, their husbands had become close friends despite their wives' indifference to one another.

William had dropped in to see the former Opera Ghost for a short visit when he had been called on an assignment in Munich, Germany where Christine and Erik currently lived on a quiet and desolate farmhouse next to a forest.

Erik had shown his friend the acres of land filled with creeks, rivers, and trees and then the men shared drinks by the fireplace exchanging stories about the CIA and MI6, omitting national security secrets of course.

Their pleasant talk was occasionally marred by dark undertones as was one occasion when William and Erik had met outside a local Munich café to discuss important business. It was quite an odd sight to see two impeccably dressed men, one with a severely burned face while the other with a masked face, dine in a slightly public area.

Stares were always present and while both men never grew comfortable or got used to them, they were accustomed to such rude actions by the public. The masked man leaned forward on the small oak table to look over the paperwork that his friend had brought from the States.

"You still have no idea where they could be, Addams?"

"No, unfortunately, I have not been able to locate Michael, Paul, or Damien. Your mother also has seemed to vanish into thin air as well. After she had threatened my wife, I had to take extra precautions to ensure she would be safe. The CIA and FBI have both sent agents to watch over her when I am not with her. So far, there has been no indication Madeline is in the United States or France. I have also discussed the issue with the German officials, and they have also had no knowledge of her being here either. Has MI6 uncovered anything?"

"I have talked with a few fellow agents and we were able to locate the last known location after the Opera House fires. She and Michael had rented a car and two tickets to Manchester three months ago but nothing since that time. Paul and Damien were currently living in Latvia, out of the jurisdiction for the crimes committed in France or other locations of their criminal activities last month. Nothing seems to imply that they intend to leave."

The CIA agent pressed a scarred hand to his forehead in dismay. As much progress that he and Stacia have made, the dark cloud that was Madeline always seemed to hover over their heads. It appeared to be the same with Erik and Christine.

Sighing heavily, William's hazel eyes were downcast as the masked man leaned back in his chair, two fingers rubbing his chin in contemplative thought. The men were too immersed in their thoughts that they failed to hear the door's ding indicating a customer entering the café. Suddenly, a very pregnant Christine appeared with William's wife, surprising their husbands who scrambled to get the papers off the table before the women could see what they were doing.

The masked man smiled a genuinely large smile at his beautiful wife while William stood to help seat his wife next to him. As Christine settled in next to her husband, the couples looked at each other then laughed.

"What brings our lovely wives to join us at the table?"

Christine smiled brightly before settling her hand on her stomach as she answered William's question. Erik and Stacia exchanged a brief look that only the burned man noticed before looking back at the pregnant woman.

"Well, Stacia showed up at my work and said that she wanted to surprise her husband and I thought it was a good idea. I needed a break from the opera house anyhow, so I showed her around the city before we saw Erik's car outside the café's parking lot. Plus, I told her that this was a good place for coffee."

The burned man noticed much to his chagrin that Erik had not taken his eyes off Stacia during the happy conversation between him and Christine. Something was going on and it was irritating him to know he was the odd one out.

"Have you thought of any names yet?"

Christine smiled brightly; looking up at Erik's masked face at those beaming gold eyes, before laughing, "No. Not yet. We keep debating about it but we have not decided any names for either a boy or girl."

Erik moved forward towards William and winked, "Nadir keeps calling me about the baby. He wants to be the godfather to the child. I keep telling him he's an old coot if he is to be a godfather. He practically is _my_ father. I wouldn't want to hurt the old man's feelings…He does act like such a girl when he does not get his way."

They all laughed as Stacia jabbed her elbow in her husband's side, saying, "Sounds like you, honey."

William gave her that familiar look causing her to chuckle before looking at Christine then Erik then back at Christine.

"You two look so happy. I am so glad that you two _finally_ have found happiness. Lord knows it's about time."

"Thank you for all of your help in that. I sincerely hope that one day I can repay you all for what you have given me."

"Desslar, the only thing we want you to do is raise that baby right…and take care of your family. All of that you are already doing."

Chuckling, Erik stirred his coffee with the small red straw before responding, "When are you two adding to the family?"

Coughing, Stacia choked on her iced chocolate latte while the other three looked on in concern before bursting out with suppressed laughter. William rubbed his wife's back as she regained breath and dignity before answering Erik's question.

"Until we both are in a non-dangerous field of work and my wife's safety is no longer an issue. We will discuss it then but for now we are content with each other's company. Besides, I do not think I would be cut out to be a good father."

Laying a warm hand on his shoulder, Stacia spoke softly, "You would make a wonderful father, sweetie. It just takes work. Anyhow, I would be honored to be the mother of your child anytime you feel is right."

The two shared a loving embrace and kiss while the masked man watched with his arm wrapped around his wife in his ever protective embrace. Sighing happily, William stood up with his wife holding his hand.

"Thanks for meeting me, Desslar. I do not want to take you away from your architecture projects any longer."

Smiling that familiar smile, the now domesticated man stood in response and shook his friend's hand before shaking his head at the man's comment. He helped his pregnant wife stand up in order to leave the café and return to their home.

"Do not worry about me, Addams. You have not kept me from any projects. I finished the blueprints yesterday. Today is dedicated for me to pamper my very pregnant wife here. She needs all the help I can give."

They all laughed as Christine slapped her husband's shoulder. William and Christine began to talk about her upcoming project that she was to help put on for her husband's new opera while Erik and Stacia went to the side to pay and discuss something privately.

"Erik, I know that you sensed my fear when I entered."

"Stacia, your husband and I would die before we let anything happen to either you or Christine. We are working to find the whereabouts of Madeline and Michael."

His voice was cold and detached, sending a shiver down her spine as she recalled the time when he used it before nearly eight months ago. Yet, the masked man was aware of a sense of dread that he had felt for the past month. Looking down in her sad green eyes, the masked man saw that same dread in them as well.

However, they both shook it off and grabbed their coats and paid the bill. Setting out, the two couples stood outside the café about to say their goodbyes. Shaking hands, the men said their farewells as the women looked on; all unaware of a speeding black SUV heading towards them on the street.

At that moment the café was playing Vladimir Ashkenazy's piano version of Chopin's _**Waltz No. 9 in A-Flat, Op. 69, No. 1 "Farewell."**_ To this day, that song brought William horrific memories and he would then spiral out of control mentally and physically.

The couples turned around in time to see the SUV stop as Michael and Damien get out with their guns aimed right at them. Madeline then appeared out of the alleyway as she looked on with that twisted grin of satisfaction surveying the massacre about to take place.

In a matter of moments, gunfire exploded in the quiet plaza as people screamed and ran in utter confusion. Erik reacted instantly and dove in front of his pregnant wife while she covered her stomach protectively. Stacia leapt into action and pulled out her gun, shooting back at Michael and Damien while William pulled Christine back into the café. Erik turned towards his mother who merely stood still as people pushed past her in fright. Their eyes met instantaneously and Erik knew that she felt nothing for him as she pulled the trigger of the gun she held.

There was a blinding light and slight pain that ebbed as fast as the light vanished. Erik mustered out a breath before collapsing to the cold pavement, next to the shards of porcelain with his blood stained on them. In one moment, he let out his last breath as his final thought was of Christine and his child. He would never see them or grow old with them, but he knew there was a multitude of people who would care for them when he was gone.

With that thought, he finally died with peace in his heart.

William made sure Christine was secure in a safe spot as she cried out for her husband repeatedly, fearing for his safety.

He ordered the pregnant woman to stay still and stay down until he came back for her. Pulling out his gun, he ventured back out of the café to help his wife in the fight against Damien and Michael.

Turning to the left, he saw Erik's fallen form and his wife still shooting at Damien and Michael who were behind the SUV. She was dodging their gunfire behind a postal box and light pole. Then, he caught a glimpse of a light flashing off a gun and to his utter horror he saw that Madeline was aiming her weapon at his wife.

Without a second thought, he aimed his own weapon at her then pulled his gun's trigger. With a cry of shock and pain, the woman fell to the ground where her cold eyes stared at William, blood running out of them and her mouth with a hole in the middle of her forehead.

Michael, Damien, and Stacia stopped their gunfire to see what had happened. Michael screamed in rage and heartache while Stacia made eye contact with her husband as she realized that their masked friend was dead.

Tears poured out of her eyes as she realized Christine would be utterly devastated. Even tears came down the burned man's face as grief had already begun to sink in at his only true friend's death.

He dropped to his knees and held his best friend's dead form in his arms as he wept bitterly over him. Damien saw the magnitude of what had happened and took off on foot as the wail of sirens approaching became louder. Michael kissed the top of his love's bloodied head before he turned his enraged eyes to the man that had claimed his lover's life.

With a snarl, he snatched his gun and was about to pull the trigger when he heard the FBI agent cocking her gun in his direction. Swinging his arm around, he yanked back the trigger, emitting an explosion of gunfire smoke. William closed his eyes, expecting to be hit but he wore a bulletproof vest so he was not worried. When he did not feel any pain or see any blood on himself, he looked around to find Michael laughing psychotically and instinctively the burned man shot Michael as his hatred overcame him.

The man dropped to the road's pavement dead instantly next to the woman who had started the whole mess in the first place. Turning his head backward, Christine stood in the doorway. Her mouth was opening and closing but no sound of her screaming could be heard. Yet, her agony was evident. She fell to her knees as William aided her to her dead husband's side.

To this day, William could still hear her wretched cries and horrendous sobbing as she wailed for her beloved husband in his nightmares. He had never heard such devastation in his life so he left her to mourn her husband's death in peace.

Standing up, he looked amidst the glass shards, blood, stench of death, and police squads that were everywhere in search of his wife. When he could not locate her, panic rose up within his heart. Where was she?

"Stacia! Stacia, where are you? Answer me, darling! Answer me!"

"William…"

He rotated on his foot to see her standing in the alleyway. She was half covered by shadows, but her voice was unmistakable. Her gun slipped from her hand and fell to the ground as she approached him.

They embraced and kissed passionately. Yet, when he held her to his body, she whispered in his ear, "William…I do not have much time left. I want you to promise me that you will take care of Christine and raise her and Erik's child. It is my dying wish. Do not be afraid for I will watch over you always even in death. I love you with all of my heart and always will."

Then, she slid out of his arms and to the filthy ground. His mind was befuddled with confusion as he looked down on his bloodstained clothes and bloody hands. She had been shot in the chest. Dropping to his knees as so many had done in the gunfire; he held her head next to his beating heart.

With that last sound, she smiled as she let out her last breath. His body shook violently as it was wracked with sobs of utter anguish. To this day, he did not recall anything after that moment when his whole world crumbled and died. He was later told by several paramedics that he would not let go of the body and lashed out at them, screaming and howling. They had no choice but to tranquilize him in order to take him to the hospital.

Christine had gone into premature labor and gave birth to a two pound baby girl who was put in the Neonatal center of the hospital and given a grave prognosis. She also had become catatonic and would not eat, sleep, or speak. She refused to go see her and Erik's child.

Nadir and Madame Giry had come to identify the body of Erik Desslar and Stacia Addams. Then they assured Christine they would take care of the funeral arrangements for both Stacia and Erik. The new mother did nothing but stare at the wall, leaving them to handle all of the necessary paperwork alone.

William had been put in the insane asylum and suicide watch after he attacked the hospital staff with the IV stand and tried to slash his throat with an IV needle. He sat in his private hell, staring at a wall, in a straitjacket, for nearly three days.

The third day, he had a visitor. Raoul de Chagny entered his padded room and sat down next to the CIA agent. Philippe had informed him of all of the chaos that occurred and Erik Desslar's death.

He flew out the next day to go see William Addams who now did not even acknowledge the rich man's presence. Meg had gone to see Christine with little to no successful result. Raoul stared down his brown clad corduroy pants and green suede sweater, carefully contemplating his next words.

"I wanted to go see Christine, but I think my presence would only upset her further at this point. Erik and I never got along too well. I did manage to see her little baby girl. She is perfect, you know. She doesn't have one deformed part on her…Desslar would be proud. Christine has yet to see her own girl and I am afraid I do not have the words to comfort her, but I think you do…I won't give you all the crap that my brother told me after I attempted to commit suicide. If you wish to die, I will not stand in your way. I will ensure you get out of this place. Let me know."

The burned man turned his head to de Chagny and closed his eyes. His heart felt like it was literally trying to crawl out of his body from the suffocating grief he suppressed. He feared for his sanity…if it was even there.

"I do want to get out of here. Yet, I have no one to go home to anymore…My job is gone, my home is gone, and my love is…dead. I should have protected her! I should have…"

"Saved her? Yes, I made that mistake once and that did nothing to help me either. I did not have anyone at all…or so I thought. My grief at losing Christine was so great that anyone outside of her was lost to me. When Philippe found me after I tried to kill myself, he did everything to prove to me I was not alone."

"Raoul, you are a handsome man with a great amount of wealth and family. I, on the other hand, have no family, am hideously deformed, and already am unstable."

Laughing sadly, the two men shared a knowing nod over the same experience before returning to their former brooding selves. Raoul removed the straitjacket from William's body and threw it to other side of the room.

"You are no more unstable than I once was, Addams. You once told me the reason I was so furious with Desslar was because deep down I knew Christine loved him…Although I denied it then, I now know you were right that night. I never had her heart to begin with, and that hurt me for quite some time. The point is…I want to help you. You have lost the woman you love as I did. But something that I did not have, _you _can_ give_ to Christine. You can give her _comfort_, for you both have lost the people you love. I never had comfort from someone who knew what I was feeling."

William did not respond and Raoul sighed heavily as he saw that the burned man stared at the floor with empty eyes. He was about to give up and stood, getting ready to leave. When he walked to the door, William stopped him as he spoke softly.

"It was my wife's dying wish for me to take care of Christine and her baby. I do not even know if the baby is okay or if Christine is…I wish to be there for her, but my grief has been drowning me…"

Raoul turned as the burned man stood up on two unsteady feet. The de Chagny heir spoke quietly, answering his questions. "Christine is not doing well at all. She went into premature labor the day Erik was shot and gave birth to a little girl who was two pounds. The doctors don't think the child will make it much longer without that vital connection with her parents. She already went into shock last night. Unloved children in the Neonatal unit, as I was told, are almost always fatal. She does not even have a name for the little girl yet."

William closed his eyes, almost hearing his wife's voice urging him to go to Christine and help save both her and that little girl. Then, inexplicably, he heard her voice then felt a peaceful blanket envelope him. It was as if something or…someone…had entered his body, giving him the strength to live.

"I need to see her, Raoul. I feel my wife giving me the strength that I need to survive her death. Her strongest desire was for me to live…If I cannot live for her, I will live for that little girl. I will give her everything that I could not give my wife."

Raoul smiled and inwardly cried out in victory. He had won! Megan would be thrilled with him. They had postponed the wedding until both William and Christine were strong enough to attend and not suffer mental breakdowns.

After he made sure his friend was signed out of the suicide watch unit, Raoul returned back to England to his fiancée until they would attend the two funerals in five days.

_--Present Day: Hospital Room #454--_

Christine felt older than she truly was, aches developed but none compared to the one ache that was eating her alive from the inside out. She wanted to die and she had the opportunity to do so, but she was too scared to take her own life. A growing sense of resentment also had settled in her heart against those who came to visit her like Nadir, Madame Giry, Meg because she just wanted to fall asleep in this hospital bed and never wake up.

It was an odd feeling not being pregnant anymore and she had not even seen her child at birth. She did not hear the infant's cry, so it was like she never was with child to start with. As far as she knew, the baby was dead like its father. Wrapping an arm around her now flat stomach, she wept for like the hundredth time in three days.

Suddenly, the door opened and she glared at the intrusion until she realized who had come. William Addams stepped into the hospital room with a small brown satchel in his hand, and with no trace of a smile, he sat on the side of her bed after moving her tray of uneaten food.

"Even if you do not eat, they will put an IV in your arm." His calm voice held a pitying undertone which she resented further.

"Then I will take it out." She responded with a haughtiness she did not possess.

He sighed heavily before placing the brown satchel on the foot of her bed and rotated his body to face his friend's wife. Christine's face now was pale instead of the healthy glow and her once bright eyes were now dull with bags underneath them. The whites of her eyes had been tainted with red from the tears that had come out.

She was still in full grieving mode and William knew he had to tread carefully so as not to upset her further in this emotional and fragile time for her. He outstretched his hand to her as her eyes slanted in fury at the gesture. She crossed her arms over her chest and spat at him.

"You tried to kill my husband…In fact, I hold you just as responsible as the person who pulled the trigger. You killed him! You killed my husband! I hate you!!"

As she lunged at him, the burned man nearly fell backwards as he tried to ward off her blows. Yet at the same time, he allowed her to somewhat act out on her rage. She needed to vent. She slapped him hard across the face several times before he stood up rigidly.

Spreading out his hands, he acquiesced, "Christine, I know you are furious with me. I am furious with myself. I am here to help you and…"

"Help me? Can you bring Erik back? No you can't so there is nothing that you can do for me."

"I can for your child…"

"Stay away from my child!"

"You have never met your child, Madame Desslar. Erik's child lays in a bassinet in the Neonatal Unit alone and unloved."

"How dare you!"

"Christine, I saved your life as well as your child's. It appears I must do it again."

"You do not belong here! I don't want your help either! Go away you freak."

The two saw in a very tense silence before the burned man straightened himself to his full height and defiantly disregarded her command. The woman's response was to throw every available object in his direction which he dodged quite deftly before he came forward to the bed, slamming down a letter with familiar red handwriting on it.

Immediately, Christine stopped her tantrum and snatched the letter up with her white fingers, greedily absorbing the last letter that her husband wrote to both William and her in case of his death.

_**My Dearest Christine:**_

_**If you are reading this letter, then I am no longer among the living…Well…anymore than I once was before you came into my life. I suspected my mother might be the only person aside from Addams in this world that could succeed in killing me.**_

_**This letter was to be delivered to William and Stacia Addams in case of my demise so that this would reach your hands safely. I wish you to move on with your life, but I also trust in your love and devotion. I know you might defy everyone's wish including mine for you to live your life; however, I beg you to **_**live**_**! Live for our child! Our child deserves to have its parent, if it cannot have both. Because of you, I realize that our lives together had ceased to be ours the moment our child was conceived. That child **_**is**_** our life now, and you must now live for that infant. My life always carried a level of danger; I always lived with the notion I could die at any moment, something I accepted a long time ago.**_

_**Needless to say, I was always prepared. If you have a boy, I want his name to be Charles Raja Desslar. His first name after your grandfather, his second name named after Nadir's son (whom I dearly loved), and my surname as the last name. If you have a girl, I would like to name her Gabrielle Erica Desslar. I have a feeling it will be a girl just as I had a feeling I would die, my love. Gabrielle means "strength from God" and Erica is not only a variation of my name, it also means "forever strong."**_

_**Also in possession of my friend Addams are DVDs…twenty to be exact. One for every birthday to our child where I just speak to 'her' and give 'her' advice and play music I composed only for 'her.' Play one DVD at every birthday party until she reaches the age of twenty.**_

_**I know you will mourn my death, but do not mourn a day longer than you have to. I am always with you, my love. I always will be with you. Every step you take, you will not place your foot down alone. I walk with you in every step you make. You will be taken care of, but you must allow Addams to care for you also. It is solemnly my sincere wish, if not as those trite Americans say, "**_**dying**_**" wish that you allow them to help you and our child until you have found the strength to move on.**_

_**Moving on does not mean to forget what we had. Nor does it mean that you stop loving me or disrespect me in any manner. Life is all about hope. And our life is what we will it to be. You may have no will or life now, but your hope lies not with me, but our hope **_**is**_** our child. With our child for hope, you will be able to have life. A life filled with precious moments and love and happiness and laughter…**_

_**Raise our child to be everything good about the two of us. Watch over her and protect her until she is ripe with age and has her own family. Then you can come to me in the life after this life after you are sure our daughter is safe. I will be waiting for you. And I have learned the value of being patient.**_

_**I love you and Gabrielle with my all of my entire being. My soul was saved the moment you ran into me at the theater. All of my heart and soul is filled with my love for you.**_

"_**Love endures all things"**_

_**Ever Your Loving Husband and Father,**_

_**Erik Desslar**_

Christine's tears stained the letter of her deceased husband. The folded letter tumbled to the floor as she wept openly for the first time not in grief but from guilt. She looked at William who did not meet her eyes as he bent down to retrieve the letter and satchel. When his hazel eyes finally met Christine's, his heart broke as renewed grief surfaced for his dead wife. He weakly grabbed the chair next to the bed to steady his self and sat down heavily while Christine cautiously and diligently watched his face. She saw his grief, but she did not know the cause.

"Where's Stacia? I rather speak to her."

Without meeting her eyes or changing his cold detached voice, he responded nonchalantly, "She's dead, Christine."

"Dead? Oh my Lord, how?"

"She was shot…took a bullet to protect me…"

Suddenly, rage filled his being and he stood up, facing the wall so the mother did not see his dark eyes. He was furious with himself for allowing his wife to die for him when it should have been the other way around. With a cry of anguished wrath, he slammed his fist into the concrete wall repeatedly, not even hearing Christine's protestations until his knuckles were bleeding and raw.

As if nothing had occurred, the burnt man sat down as if for a casual meal with a friend while the woman in the bed next to him looked at him not with horror or shock but with understanding. She knew how he felt.

"I am sorry…You did not deserve my anger…"

"Oh but I did, Christine; you and I both know it. Erik's life could have been far different had I not entered it in the first place."

Shaking her beautiful head, the blonde curls freely flowed as the woman's life slowly filled her being, "Maybe that's true…Without you, William, Erik and I would have _never_ had a life together in the first place. You got me to overcome my fears and helped Raoul see the truth that he and I both tried to hide from ourselves. Erik loved you like a brother…He trusted you…"

"Stacia was dying in my arms, Christine, and her thoughts were only on you and your child. She fought hard to save Erik's life, my life, and now your life. I cannot die knowing I denied my wife, my soul mate, the woman I loved what I promised her. Please do not shut me out, Christine. I know your pain…It flows in every vein of my body at this precise moment."

Sad blue eyes regarded the distorted man's face before closing in resignation and realization. Erik's words flowed back into her mind as she recalled what he asked of her. A wave of urgency came over her.

"William, please…let me see my little girl or boy. I _need_ to be there for my child. Erik wanted me to do that. I have been selfish…I see that now…because of you, my child's life and my own have been saved."

"Do not give me such credit, Madame Desslar. I only did as my friend asked. He was the one who entered your heart…He is the one giving you the strength to fight to live for his and your child. Let's go now."

Smiling softly, the former CIA agent stood and helped her to a wheelchair (as a precaution) and wheeled her down the hallways to the Neonatal unit on the third floor. Before entering, he helped her stand as the medical nurse came out with the proper dressings she would need before she could see her little girl.

William remained in the hallway allowing her to bond with the little baby who needed her mother more than ever. Years later, William never knew what transpired in that little room but he did know that Christine came out determined to live and give her daughter, Gabrielle, the best life a mother could.

As the two grieving friends struggled with their new sense of motivating reasons to live, they knew in the back of their minds that the most difficult part of the healing process was about to come; they knew that within two days, they would be finalizing the deaths of their loved ones and were not sure if they could survive the devastation it would entail.

--_Rosemary Cemetery 9:00 in the morning_--

_**Extreme ways are back again  
Extreme places I didnt know  
I broke everything new again  
Everything that Id owned  
I threw it out the windows, came along  
Extreme ways I know move apart  
The colors of my sea  
Perfect color me**_

Extreme ways that that help me  
Help me out at night  
Extreme places I had gone  
But never seen any light  
Dirty basements, dirty noise  
Dirty places coming through  
Extreme worlds alone  
Did you ever like it planned

I would stand in line for this  
Theres always room in life for this

Oh baby, oh baby  
Then it fell apart, fell apart  
Oh baby, oh baby  
Then it fell apart, it fell apart  
Oh baby, oh baby  
Then it fell apart, it fell apart  
Oh baby, oh baby  
Like it always does, always does

Extreme songs that told me  
They helped me down every night  
I didnt have much to say  
I didnt get above the light  
I closed my eyes and closed myself  
And closed my world and never opened  
Up to anything  
That could get me along

I had to close down everything  
I had to close down my mind  
Too many things to cover me  
Too much can make me blind  
Ive seen so much in so many places  
So many heartaches, so many faces  
So many dirty things  
You couldnt believe

I would stand in line for this  
Its always good in life for this

Oh baby, oh baby  
Then it fell apart, fell apart  
Oh baby, oh baby  
Then it fell apart, it fell apart  
Oh baby, oh baby  
Then it fell apart, it fell apart  
Oh baby, oh baby  
Like it always does, always does

As the song faded, William turned off the CD player in his car. In the passenger seat, Christine checked on her sleeping little girl before turning to her friend. She sighed sympathetically when she saw his head on the steering wheel, tears freely falling down his cheeks.

"That song…that song was special to you wasn't it?"

"It is the theme song by Moby from the first movie I took her to: _The Bourne Supremacy_. She always hated chick flicks; she only wanted to watch the hard core action films and I thought what better way to prove how devoted I was to her by taking her to see a movie where the protagonist is a man that nearly tries to destroy the CIA…where I worked."

Laughing softly, she nodded in understanding. Once he reigned in his sorrow, he pulled his shoulders up and looked at the woman next to him then at the little girl sleeping behind him. Sighing heavily, he braced himself for what was about to occur.

"Are you ready for this?"

"As ready as I can be…"

He briefly took her hand in his and gave a gentle squeeze. "I will go out first. You and Gabrielle take as much time as you need."

"Thank you…for everything."

"You are most and always welcome."

Stepping out of the car, William headed towards the brigade of people waiting on him and Christine's arrival. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his all black dress suit and headed towards the waiting Nadir Khan, Madame Giry, Meg Giry, and surprisingly Raoul de Chagny.

Raoul stepped forward when none of the others had spoken a word and embraced the burned man, whispering in his ear, "I merely wished to see you. You have overcome the obstacle of death's grip. I will leave now…so as not to upset Christine."

Turning on his heel, the de Chagny heir proceeded to stroll back to the limousine where his brother awaited his return. Meg stayed to help her mother deal with her loss and be there also for her best friend, Christine, who now joined the procession.

Dressed in an all black dress that cut below her knees, she was a picture of a woman in mourning. She lifted her veil to look at the only friends of hers and Erik's as the baby cooed in the car seat on her left arm.

"Thank you all so much for attending. It means so much that you all have come to say goodbye to Erik. This is our miracle little girl, Gabrielle Erica Desslar. She inexplicably gained three pounds and her lungs were fully developed and fully functional…so she is able to attend this service in her father's memory."

With the help of William Addams, Christine was able to endure the egregious and sanctimoniously stereotypical ceremony just as she was there to help him deal with the long drawn out process of saying good bye to the woman he always had adored.

--_Conclusion_--

Years came and went but the memories created for Gabrielle were happy and bright ones filled with laughter and happiness. She was a healthy and beautiful child with dark hair and blue eyes.

Christine and William kept in close contact with one another were central to the raising of Gabrielle. Neither ever married again just as they knew was the price of atoning the choices that led them down this path.

Raoul and Megan married in a small but luxurious ceremony filled with only their loved ones. William and Christine could not attend for obvious reasons but did send their support from far away. They had a happy and productive life filled with children and pets.

Philippe tragically died in a car accident and that forever haunted his younger brother who never fully recovered from losing his beloved brother. Yet, Meg was surprisingly a strong foundation for him.

Madame Giry and Nadir Khan kept in touch, both pursuing the dreams they long since thought were over. Madame Giry went back to Iran to be a nurse for the Red Cross while Nadir Khan returned to his position as Chief of Police. They loved each other but never married out of respect for the other's deceased loved ones.

--

Meanwhile, off the coast of Santa Barbara there were two agents working together to finally make peace with the past. After twenty years of searching for the evasive and elusive judge, Paul Mclean, the two friends had finally found him.

Stacia Addams whose hair had now grown silver from age and a broken heart and Erik Desslar, the masked assassin had finally found the man that had taken them away from their loved ones. They knew they had to give up their respective lovers…It was the price to pay for atonement…

Paul would not stop until he ensured that they would die. It was not Madeline who had ordered the hit; it was Paul. Yet, Stacia had learned about it from the FBI surveillance after William went to Germany for business.

She and Erik had met secretly over those seven months for their plan of attack…and they knew that in order to keep Christine, William, and the unborn child safe, Stacia and Erik had to forfeit their lives with their loved ones to ensure their safety from the crooked judge.

Once Paul quietly and discreetly disappeared from the island, Stacia and Erik shared an intimate but rare dinner together overlooking the sea from the condo's balcony. They rarely talked about Christine and William, for the topic still was raw after all these years.

"Do you think we will be able to go back, Erik? Do you think we can reclaim our lives with the people we love?"

The masked man removed his mask and pressed a wearied hand to his forehead. Closing his eyes, he drank the rest of his gin and tonic before answering her loaded questions.

"No, Stacia. You and I both knew that this choice to protect them would take them away from us forever…But tonight, we ensured that Christine, William, and my daughter are forever safe from Paul's radar…or his men…Since we made them all disappear."

"You are right…It's odd after all these years, our love for William and Christine has not faded…I still dream about him…Sometimes I wish I would die…so the dreams would stop…so we would stop…"

Stopping she turned her tear-stained face away as the formerly masked man looked on in concern and understanding. "Stop the lie we have been living for nearly two decades…"

She nodded but kept her face turned from her partner, looking out to the peaceful waves of the sea lapping the sand as the red sun settled on the horizon. She never heard the cock of the gun or the sound of its fire. But soon her body fell back on the chair, her eyes closed…and her first smile in twenty years settled on her beautifully blood stained features.

Once her body was washed and prepped, Erik made sure she was respectively buried in the most secluded where no one would find her then he returned to the ship that headed out towards the Pacific Ocean.

After the ship neared the Hawaiian Islands, the masked man waited until all was quiet on the boat and no one was around. Then with the same silencer he used on Stacia, he used on himself. The masked man's body tumbled to the sea where it was never seen again…But like Stacia, he also died with a smile on his face.

His true last thought?

"_**Love endures all things**_**."**

**Author's Note: Enough said. I am sure many of you are quite shocked. I am pretty sure no one has read this kind of ending before…but I AM DESPERATE to hear what you all think of the ending. Was it final? Was it expected or liked?**


End file.
